Unforgivable
by lil smiles
Summary: It was supposed to end with Hardy. Unfortunately for the team, Red John had other plans. Post Season 1 Finale. EPILOGUE ADDED. COMPLETE.
1. Lisbon Was Naïve

**A/N: I'm sorry about adding to the growing pile of finale related stories. I can't seem to help myself. I've loved reading everyone's take on what unfolded in _Red John's Footsteps_ and you guys have given me such great inspiration. Special kudos go to kathiann** **and Gatekeeper**. **This is a departure from my other two post-finale fics. It's not as fluffy. I'll try not to give too much away. Please leave a review, I want to know what people think as I'm still unsure with the concept of it. Oh and please let me know if it's too wordy. The length is giving me some problems. Okay, some quick logistics and then on with the story. Enjoy!  
**

**Spoiler: I don't want anyone to get upset with me, so just watch the Season 1 finale, 1x23 _Red John's Footsteps,_ first and then you can proceed.**

**Warnings: This is dark, really dark, at least for me it is. There is some language too, if that bothers you, stop reading here. The rating may or may not go higher, but I will warn you beforehand.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own anything. I'm hoping for my birthday, Bruno Heller will show up and hire me to write an episode of the Mentalist. Now that would be a birthday gift! **

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Lisbon Was Naï****ve  
**

When Lisbon turned around and found Jane no where to be seen, she immediately felt irritated. But the feeling subsided just as quickly as it came. She understood his need for some time alone. Even if every fiber of her being wanted to run to him and thank him for what he did, not that she would admit that to anyone. There hadn't been a spare moment yet to process the past twenty four hours. Between driving to the morgue, going to the hospital to get Maya checked over, and filling out paperwork at the station, Lisbon realized that she hadn't had a minute alone with Jane since he shot and killed Hardy. The memory of it all still made her feel sick to the stomach. Staring down that barrel and knowing there was nothing she could do about it, had been terrifying. Then, Jane saved her life. She had to admit, she did not expect him to do what he did. She did not expect Jane to shoot and kill the only definitive connection he had with the psychopath responsible for taking the lives of his wife and only child, especially after she broke her promise to wait for Red John. At the time, in a sick, twisted way, Lisbon was secretly glad Red John escaped. She wasn't sure if she could stop Jane from murdering the man if they did manage to lure him out. But not only did Red John get away, they didn't even have Hardy as a consolation prize and deep down inside, Lisbon knew, it was on her. She shouldn't have gone down that slippery slope of blaming herself for what had happened, but she did anyway. If she had just taken that stupid key away from Hardy, he would have been behind bars instead of lying on a cold metal slab. Not that he was going to say anything useful. When she was convincing Jane that Hardy would talk, before the events that unfolded, the words sounded ridiculous to her own ears at the time. How ironic it was, that Lisbon, who was trying to prevent Jane from having the blood of another person on his hands, ended up accomplishing just that anyway. In bitter frustration, Lisbon slammed her fist into the dash board, earning a startled reaction from the deputy sitting beside her.

"Sorry," she apologized sheepishly.

"No worries, ma'am," he said with a smile. "It's been a long evening."

Lisbon nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak. Her silence, however, didn't deter Deputy Rohen.

"Look, I know you've been through the ringer the last couple of hours but I wanted you to know that Sheriff Hardy was a decent man."

She wasn't sure if she heard him right. If she did, she didn't want to hear the reason. Hardy nearly killed her, Jane, Maya and on top of all that, he was associated with Red John. Sheriff Hardy was the scum of the earth as far as Lisbon was concerned.

"You're angry," Rohen continued, noticing the expression on her face. "God only knows I would be too. But he wasn't as evil as you think he was. He was kind..."

"He kidnapped Maya Plasket and locked her away at an abandoned farm against her will," she interrupted, her voice eerily calm. "That was neither decent nor kind."

"I'm not condoning what he did to that poor child or to you," Rohen paused. "I guess all I'm saying is, he was a good sheriff."

Lisbon looked over at Rohen as he stared out of the front windshield. She had to admit that from his perspective, after working with Hardy for nearly ten years together on the right side of the law, it must have been difficult to understand the carnage that his colleague and probably friend had caused. Suddenly Lisbon wondered if she would feel the same way about Jane, if or when he got his ultimate revenge. Would she have been able to tell other people that Jane was a decent and kind man, just as Rohen did for Hardy? The question burned in her heart. Why was she doing this to herself? It wasn't even a fair comparison between Jane and Hardy. Mercifully, Rohen spoke up, distracting her from her tormented thoughts.

"So, are we just going to sit here and wait?"

She wanted nothing more than to just go back to the office, but she nodded her head.

"Yes, we are," she replied.

"I'd like to get home."

"I know."

"We should look for Mr. Jane, then."

"He'll be back soon."

Lisbon realized she was on autopilot. The words were coming out of her mouth but nothing was being processed.

"We've already been waiting for half an hour, ma'am."

Looking at her watch, Lisbon frowned, had it been only thirty minutes? She felt as though she had spent days in the vehicle, trapped with nothing but her guilt.

"If you don't want to go look for him, I can…"

"No," she said, a little too forcefully. "It's okay. I'll go."

He smiled gently at her.

"I really am sorry that you got caught up in all this."

Lisbon couldn't help but smile back, touched by his words.

"Thank you."

Getting out of the patrol car, Lisbon got onto the sidewalk and walked back towards the Plasket property. She tried to focus her mind on something more cheerful as she went on the search for her missing consultant.

* * *

She didn't have to go very far to find him. About a block away, Lisbon spotted him lying on his back in the middle of an open grassy field. His jacket was discarded and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He had his hands folded under his head for support, his eyes closed under the bright sunlight. Lisbon watched him from afar, not wanting to disturb him. From where she stood, he looked at peace. She could only guess what feelings were hidden just below the surface of that calm exterior.

Almost frantically, Lisbon tried to think through what she wanted to say to him. She wanted to be prepared. It was clear that when she spoke with her emotions so raw, she inadvertently exposes too much of herself. She didn't want to sound as pathetic as she did when she revealed that she cared about him. To be fair, she didn't explicitly voice her feelings, but she knew Jane could see through her words. Nothing she came up with seemed adequate. She had been an English major for her first two years of college and words were failing her. Because she was in such deep concentration, she didn't even realize she was now standing just a foot away from him.

"Are you just going to stand there and stare at me all day?"

His voice startled her out of her semi-trance. She wasn't ready to speak, so she tried to focus on anything but his face. Her distraction came in the form of a half eaten orange lying in the grass next to Jane.

"What's that?" she asked.

Jane cocked one eye open, peered down at where Lisbon had been pointing to and immediately shut it.

"It's an orange."

"I know it's an orange. Where did you get it?"

"From a tree."

He was being typical Jane, a tentative wave of relief washed over her.

"A tree?"

"You know, living organism that bears fruit, produces oxygen…"

Smiling slightly, Lisbon interrupted him midsentence.

"I know what a tree is."

"Then why ask the question?"

For some strange reason, Lisbon didn't seem annoyed by his behaviour but rather more at ease than when she was alone with only her thoughts.

"You stole fruit off of someone's tree."

"What are you going to do, arrest me?"

"I could, that way we can get home and I can get some sleep."

Not that she could, even if she tried, but she didn't voice it.

"If you want to go, just go."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"How are you getting home?"

"I can hitchhike, it's not that far. Besides, I'm a big boy."

"Don't be ridiculous, Jane. I'm not leaving you."

"Suit yourself."

She didn't want to bring it up, but she knew she had to. She braced herself for his reaction.

"We should talk."

"About what?"

Immediately, she noticed an almost imperceptible change in his light tone but she pressed on.

"You know about what."

"No, I don't, that's _why_ I asked the question."

"Jane…"

"And even if there was something to talk about, I don't want to talk about it," he said before casually adding. "But seeing that _you_ want to talk about it, no matter what I think, just talk."

That was definitely the last thing she wanted to hear from him. Lisbon exhaled a shaky breath before continuing. She hated herself for being so vulnerable at this moment, desperately wanting to be the same self-assured Agent Lisbon she was pre-Patrick Jane.

"Fine," she paused, wringing her hands together. "I guess, I should thank you."

Jane started to laugh and for some inexplicable reason, it had hurt her.

"What's so funny?"

"You and your predictability."

As the words left his mouth, it snapped the tiny shred of power she had left on her emotions.

"I gave you some alone time to think and collect yourself. And I know that under this façade, you're furious with me because I cost you your only real chance of getting revenge on that sick son of a bitch. But I wanted to thank you anyway for saving my life. I'd like to think that you did it because you cared enough about me."

"Oh Lisbon," he sounded almost patronizing. "You can be so naïve sometimes."

Closing her eyes, she felt a single tear threatening to trickle down her cheek. She swiped it away with her sleeve before it could fall. There was no way she was letting him see her cry. He was being cruel on purpose, he had to be. She wanted so much to believe that. Maybe Jane was right, maybe she was naïve. She should have known better. Sinking down on her knees, Lisbon freed one of his hands from behind his head. The action clearly surprised Jane as he sat up, his eyes immediately snapping open. Reaching into her pocket, Lisbon placed what she had hoped would be a peace offering into his palm. Jane, still somewhat stunned by her touch, stared at the bright orange in his hand before he settled his blue gaze on her.

"I guess I'm not as predictable as you think."

Her hands fell from his, as she straightened up and turned away. She half expected him to stop her, but he didn't. When she made it back to the patrol car, Deputy Rohen looked confused that she was alone.

"Where's Mr. Jane?" he asked as she slipped into the passenger seat.

"He's not coming."

"Oh."

"Can we just go please?"

"Sure."

Lisbon leaned her head against the window as Rohen pulled out from the curb. She could feel his concern whenever he flicked his eyes off the road to check on her.

"Thanks again," she said.

"You're very welcome."

"Do you mind if I turn on the radio?"

"Knock yourself out. If you want I have a CD of classical music. It might help you get some sleep."

"That's the best idea I've heard all day."

Leaning over, she pressed play. The lovely sound of the piano filled the car. But as the track progressed, Lisbon realized that the melody sounded oddly familiar.

"Who is this?" she asked.

"Bach."

Her heart nearly stopped.

"Bach?" she repeated, trying to keep her voice steady.

This time, Rohen didn't respond. Lisbon tried to reach for her gun but it was too late. Her world suddenly went black.

* * *

_**TBC**_


	2. Jane Was Saving Her

**A/N: Okay, wow, I have to admit I did not expect this kind of response. Thank you, I really do love reading reviews! I liked how some people picked up on Rohen's bad vibes.**

**cybercat08: Nice catch, that line was meant to be a tip off.**

**GSRFanatic123: Maybe standing up to Hardy was genuine?**

**lgmtreader: Rohen isn't red in a different language, at least none that I know of. And yeah, I did chose to ignore the shooting of the other Deputy, that was my bad. **

**To the rest of you that were surprised, sorry for the deceptive nature of the whole chapter. When I first had the inspiration to write this fic, I was aiming for a fluffy but angsty piece and ended up with this monster. I'm still not sure where I'm going with it but I'm hoping it'll be worth the adventure. And I'm having a serious case of 'uh oh, where do I go next' syndrome, so if this chapter is kind of boring, my apologies. One last thing to keep in mind, Rohen might be RJ or he might not be RJ, one never really knows the mystery that is Red John... Enjoy!  
**

**Spoiler: One word, S1 FINALE! Go watch!**

**Warnings: Yes, bad words are lurking and some violence. Oh and Rohen, he's creepy.**

**Disclaimer: Poor student, I own nothing.  
**

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**Chapter 2 – Jane Was Saving Her  
**

Jane stared down at the orange in his hand, the present from Lisbon. He thought that this orange was more perfect in every way than the one he had picked. He had been genuinely surprised and touched by this gift from her. He had thought he had discovered every nook and cranny in that pretty head of hers. Clearly, he was wrong, wrong by a long shot. He didn't deserve her kindness. Hell, he didn't deserve her.

From the road behind him, he could hear the sound of another vehicle driving by. It was only car in the past two hours. He had told Lisbon he would hitchhike back. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. He hated himself. He hated that he had to hurt Lisbon the way he did. It wasn't that he wanted to. He had no choice. He had to walk away. He had to break free while he still had the chance. Only, it wasn't nearly as satisfying as he would have liked it to be. He wasn't sure he could do it but he knew exactly what he was doing. Every cutting word had been carefully thought through. Every word, down to the letter. At first, he hadn't expected it to be so easy. In fact, it was too easy. He just pretended he was someone else, a skill he picked up in his days as a fake psychic. His plan went along swimmingly. That is, until she gave him the orange.

Unconsciously, he moulded his hand around the fruit's smooth peel. Lisbon really did know him better than he wanted her to. The boundaries he so desperately built up around him have been crumbling for a long time now and the last couple of days had the effect of a wrecking ball. He didn't like being so weak and helpless, not in the least bit. Every time he noticed her concerned look thrown his way, there was a faint pang in his heart. It was a reminder from that dark place in his mind, to stay on the steady path in accomplishing the plan. The ultimate goal. Red John. Red John should have been the only one at the centre of Jane's attention, no one else. But when he saw Lisbon in Hardy's crosshairs, terror written in her eyes, he felt a ripple of fear. Not because he didn't think he could take Hardy out, rather he feared he was straying from the plan. His feelings for his raven-haired boss would cost her, her life. He really couldn't care less what happened to him. He had told her that and quite simply it was the truth. He had even rationalized that it wouldn't matter if Lisbon never spoke to him again. None of that mattered. She would be alive and she would stay alive. He was going to do everything in his power to keep it that way even if it meant he had to cut himself from being a part of her life. He wasn't going to let her suffer the same fate as his beloved family.

Shutting his eyes, he snatched the half-eaten fruit beside him and hurled it across the field. He needed to get out of this place. It was probably unhealthy that he was taking his anger out on citrus. Gathering his jacket and slipping Lisbon's gift into his pocket, Jane made his way to the side of the highway. He fished out his cell, his finger automatically hovering over the two key. He didn't want to risk hearing her voice so soon, so he pressed three on speed dial instead. It rang only once.

"Cho."

"Hello, Officer. It seems someone took off with my ride and I need a big strong policeman to bring me home."

Seamlessly, Jane appeared to have slipped back under his mask.

"Where are you, Jane?"

There wasn't even the slightest hitch in Cho's voice.

"Oh, a block away from the Plasket's."

"What are you still doing there?"

"I think Lisbon just forgot about me."

His voice barely wobbled as her name rolled off his tongue.

"What did you do?"

The question had been anticipated and an answer was prepared.

"Why is it always my fault?"

A little voice in his head answered, '_Because it always is_._'_ The line went quiet for a while. He could hear Cho's hushed voice and Van Pelt in the background.

"Hi, Van Pelt."

"What did you do to Lisbon?" she repeated Cho's question.

From the slight echo in her voice, Jane guessed he was now on speaker phone. He didn't want to answer that question again.

"Nothing," he simply said, infusing the word with a childish whine.

"You sound like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar."

"Would someone just please pick me up?"

There was a laugh from Van Pelt. Suddenly, Jane wanted to hear Lisbon's laugh.

"Hold your horses, Rigsby's already on his way."

"Good, I hope he's speeding. I'm getting sunburn."

"Quit complaining Jane, you deserve it."

He could feel a faint smile creep on his face. He still had his friends. It seemed Lisbon hadn't shared a word of their last conversation to her team. She really was too good for him. He was starting to become convinced he did the right thing.

"Did Lisbon send you over to make fun of me while I'm stranded in the middle of nowhere?"

Trying to keep the desperation from his voice, Jane genuinely wanted to know if Lisbon was alright.

"No, she hasn't come in yet."

Jane immediately sensed something was amiss.

"She's not at the office?"

"No," Cho spoke this time. "Why?"

"She should be there."

"Not everyone sleeps in the office like you," he replied, curt.

"Trust me, she should be there."

"Well, I'm telling you she's not."

"Call her."

So much for not being desperate. There was a beat of hesitation from Cho.

"Alright, but if she wants to tear someone to pieces for waking her from her beauty sleep, I'm handing you over on a silver platter."

"Fine."

Jane heard Van Pelt key in Lisbon's number on a different line. Ring. Ring. _Damn it, Lisbon, pick up._ Ring. Ring. His hand was going numb from holding his cell way too tightly to his ear. The small grasp he had on his emotions was slowly slipping. Ring. Ring. Click.

"Hi, you've reached Teresa, I'm not home at the moment, leave…"

Van Pelt hung up, followed by a long uncomfortable silence. Jane didn't want to think. He wanted to go back. He wanted to stop Lisbon from leaving. He reached into his pocket and brushed his fingers against the orange. He could feel her hands on his. He could see into those heartbreakingly green eyes. He refused to believe the thought that popped into his head. He tried to push it out but it just sat there, mocking him. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"He's got her."

* * *

An overpowering metallic scent was what roused Lisbon into consciousness. Her hands were cuffed firmly behind her back. She had a rag shoved in her mouth, tasting of jasmine and honey. Faint music was also playing in the background. She tried to open her eyes and kick her legs out from beneath her, but even the slightest movements caused a sharp pain to explode from inside her head.

She had been so stupid. She had let her guard down, again. And now, she was alone, trapped God knows where. She refused to believe this was the doing of Red John, refused to believe that the thoughtful man who had driven her for hours the other night could be that psychotic killer. There was no way. _Oh Lisbon, you can be so naïve…_ Forcing Jane's voice from her mind, Lisbon struggled to focus. There was no time to analyze. Right now, she had to stay alert and survive. She wasn't going to make it easy for this sick bastard. She was going to fight. Willing her lids to open, she took a few moments to adjust to the light before the room came into focus.

Across from her was a wall, filled from floor to ceiling with numerous portraits. Squinting, Lisbon tried to make out the faces. There was only one girl featured in every photo and Lisbon instantly recognized her billowy red hair. Rosalind. Her eyes darted between the mix-matched frames. Rosalind on the swings. Rosalind by the Eiffel Tower. Rosalind riding on a horse. Rosalind eating an ice cream cone. The only one that was different was the picture in the centre. A black and white Rosalind was smiling brightly into the camera, her face taking up half of the snap shot. The other half was occupied by another familiar face, Deputy Rohen. Rosalind had lied to them and they bought it hook, line and sinker. Lisbon suddenly wondered if the woman was actually blind when she spotted someone from the corner of her eye.

"I see you're awake, Agent Lisbon."

She turned her head towards the source of the voice, ignoring the dull throb rippling beneath her temple. Standing in the doorway was the devil himself. Rohen was still in his deputy's uniform, hands folded behind his back. A sickening grin was spreading across his face as his cold unfeeling blue eyes travelled from her to the wall of Rosalind.

"Isn't she just stunning?"

Lisbon watched as he lightly traced Rosalind's face in the photo closest to him. He stopped abruptly and returned his attention on Lisbon. He casually strode towards her, the wooden floorboards squeaking after each step. She suppressed the panic rising in her chest and forced her body to stay still, as he got nearer. He hunched forward on the balls of his feet, his face inches from hers. He was so close that she could feel his hot breath against her skin as he grazed the back of his fingers across her cheek. Instinctively, she recoiled from his touch. She now understood Jane's obsession with cutting this man to pieces. She would gladly do the deed herself when she had the chance. The grin on his face grew as he stood back and retrieved a porcelain tea cup from the table to her right. He took a seat on the only chair available and sipped his drink absent-mindedly. After returning the cup to its original place, he casually leaned back. He looked positively smug. If Lisbon had her hands free she would have wiped that look off his face.

"You know, I meant what I said to you. I really am sorry you got caught up in this mess," he paused and chuckled. "It is a shame I have to kill you. It really is. But it'll give me great pleasure knowing that when the great Patrick Jane finds you, it'll cause him unspeakable pain."

Anger coursed through her body as she struggled with her restraints, desperately trying to free herself. She didn't want to die. More importantly, she didn't want Jane to suffer.

"Oh my pet, have I upset you?"

Rohen pushed himself onto his feet and hurried to her side. She thrashed about and slammed her shoulder into his chest. He fell back, momentarily stunned, before he roared with laugher.

"You are feisty."

He scrambled up and pinned Lisbon against the wall, crushing her with the length of his entire body. Another agonizing wave of pain radiated from the back of her neck, but she continued to twist under his weight. Lisbon whimpered as he pressed his lips to her ear.

"Don't move and I'll try to be gentle," he whispered almost melodically.

She saw the silver glint of the knife before he even pulled it out. The cold blade went straight to her neck. Surprisingly there were no tears. Her thoughts were filled with a certain blond consultant. The last conversation they shared felt like a distant memory. She truly was sorry it had to end this way. Just as she was anticipating the knife slicing into her skin, Rohen lowered the blade. Lisbon looked bewildered when she felt a low rumble emanate from his chest, a maniacal laughter taking a hold of him.

"Did you really think I would just end it like that?"

Lisbon tried lunging at him but couldn't move more than an inch, yelling at him though her gag. Sighing, Rohen threw her aside, like a discarded toy. Lisbon landed hard on her knees. He bent down and pulled the rag from her mouth.

"There, that's much better," he patted her on the head. "You can scream all you want now."

Glaring at him, she used all the strength she had to kick him. The man did not seem intimidated, he just continued to laugh.

"You are quite something, Agent Lisbon."

"Go screw yourself," she bite back.

"Now, that's not a very nice thing to say."

Before she could react, he dug the blade across her thigh. She bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out loud.

"Don't test me. I might not be so nice next time."

"Then why don't you just kill me," she challenged.

He grabbed her chin and stared her straight in the eyes. From this close, Lisbon could see the man had no soul.

"What fun would that be, hmm?"

* * *

_**TBC**_


	3. Van Pelt Had a Hunch

**A/N: I heart my loyal readers! Hopefully this story won't drag on too long. I'm having a bit of writer's block. I'm not really used to writing multi-chapter fics. But I will try to update as regularly as I can. Just wanted to address a few of the reviews first before we get on to this new installment.  
**

**cybercat08: The Joker? That's interesting :) Rohen's back story you'll get soon, RJ's back story *shrug* maybe. Unless of course you think Rohen _is_ RJ. As for Jane, I had to give some sort of explanation. I don't believe he could actually be that big of an ass, especially to Lisbon.**

**FallIntoAHellCalledLov: Now that you mention it, I can see it being a commercial break line! Question on torture: I don't particularly like writing it, so we'll see. Question on Jane and the others: you'll get a better idea from this chapter. Question on Jisbon: ...**

**Ebony1: Rohen = RJ? Okay!**

**mwalter1: I wasn't even thinking about the connection between the "fun" line and Jane. That makes me a little more creeped out now!**

**Thank you for all the other reviews, I loved reading them all. It's nice to see your work appreciated, so keep them coming. I'll take anything, advice, theories and constructive critiscms. This chapter covers Van Pelt, Cho and Rigsby. Enjoy!  
**

**Spoilers: Same as before**

**Warnings: Same as before**

**Disclaimer: You've guessed it, same as before**

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**Chapter 3 - Van Pelt Had a Hunch**

Van Pelt was losing her patience. She had been on hold for the past ten minutes. Taking a sideways glance at Cho in the driver's seat, she saw the same look of frustration on his face compared to his normally cool demeanour. After Jane's call, they sped over to Lisbon's and found nobody home. Van Pelt tried tracking Lisbon's cell but got nothing. The phone was probably smashed to pieces for all they knew. Then they phoned Rigsby, who was still on the road, and filled him in on the situation. The team effectively switched into full agent mode, trying to treat this as a typical kidnapping case. From the outside Cho looked more the part than Van Pelt. She couldn't pretend that this was like any other case even if she tried. The moment she heard Jane's tired and scared voice admitting that _he_ had Lisbon, Van Pelt felt her blood run cold. She wasn't sure if _he_ was responsible, but she did sense that Lisbon was most likely in grave danger. Trying to get a hold of Deputy Rohen was also proving to be difficult. Van Pelt learned that the now deceased Sheriff Hardy hadn't updated his team into the online personnel database. So there she was, stuck on her cell, waiting for a woman named Marla from the Sheriff's office to come back. Finally, the incessant noise of Greensleeves ended, replaced by a voice on the other end.

"Hello, sorry ab…"

"Is Deputy Rohen there?" Van Pelt interrupted.

"I'm afraid not."

"Do you have his cell or home numbers?"

"Those should be on file, one moment please."

The same annoyingly airy tune was playing again as Van Pelt drew in a sharp breath.

"I don't believe this," she seethed.

"Take it easy," Cho said quietly.

"Red John has Lisbon and we don't have time on our side."

"I think Jane was overreacting."

"About what?"

"Red John isn't this stupid. If he wanted to kill Lisbon he would have done it. Instead he kidnaps her out in the middle of nowhere? I don't buy it. This isn't Red John."

"Well, Red John or not, Lisbon is out there somewhere and I'm listening to fricking Greensleeves."

At that moment, Cho's cell went off. Taking one hand off the wheel he flipped it open.

"Go."

"We have a problem," Rigsby said at once.

Cho put Rigsby on speaker and clipped his phone onto the dash.

"I just talked to the Plaskets, they said Lisbon left at around five thirty this morning with Deputy Rohen."

"So the kidnapper could have attacked them anywhere along the three, four hour drive back," Cho said.

"No, that wouldn't be possible," Van Pelt mused out loud.

Grabbing her laptop from the back seat, she flipped it open and pulled up a map.

"There's only a gas station and a truck stop diner along the highway. There's no way Red, I mean, the kidnapper, could have caught them by surprise anywhere else."

"How far are we from the gas station?" asked Cho.

"Thirty minutes give or take."

"Okay Rigsby, we'll head over there, stop and ask questions," Cho ordered. "In the meantime, take Jane and check out the diner."

"Yeah," Rigsby drew the word out. "That's, uh, sorta our problem."

There was a brief pause over the line.

"Jane's missing, isn't he?" said Cho, deadpan.

"The Plaskets don't know where he is. His cell goes straight to voice mail."

"I can try and get a location on him," Van Pelt replied. "Let's just hope he still has his phone."

"Rigsby, does Minelli know yet?" Cho asked.

"I left half a dozen messages already. My guess is he's probably still out on the golf course."

"Okay, keep trying," Cho ordered calmly. "Then get to the diner and we'll rendezvous at the Sheriff's office."

"Got it."

Ending the call, Cho leaned back in his seat.

"Jane has at least a two hour head start on us. We better find him before he finds Lisbon," Cho said warily.

"Why?" asked Van Pelt.

"If it is Red John and I'm not saying it is, Jane will kill him."

"You're sure about that?"

"I'm just saying, if _I_ got my hands on the man who murdered my wife and child, I'd kill him."

"You wouldn't."

"How do you know?"

"You're a good person."

"Good people do evil things."

Van Pelt stared at Cho for a moment before a voice startled her.

"Hello?"

"Sorry, hi," Van Pelt answered, realizing she still had her cell tucked between her cheek and shoulder.

"I've got Deputy Rohen's cell and home numbers."

Van Pelt scribbled them down on a piece of paper.

"By any chance, has he come in yet?" Van Pelt asked, hopeful.

"No, sorry, dear."

"Okay, well, can you give me a call when he does? It's very important that I get in touch with him."

"Will do."

Immediately, Van Pelt dialled the two numbers she had just written down, twice each. No answer. She slammed a fist onto the side arm rest. Cho didn't flinch. Instead, he placed his right hand on Van Pelt's arm. Neither one said a word.

* * *

Cho walked into the convenience store and heard a little bell chime indicating his presence. The woman behind the counter looked up immediately. Dark red hair in pig tails, tucked under a Boston Red Sox cap, pretty light blue eyes behind black rims, the woman, with a nametag that read _Lindy_, smiled at Cho.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, actually, CBI."

Flashing his badge, Cho opened up his wallet and slid a picture to Lindy.

"Have you seen this woman?" he asked.

After a quick glance she pushed the photo back.

"Sorry, no."

"How about a Deputy by the name of Rohen?"

"Sorry. Are they like dead or something?"

"I can't share that information with you, Ma'am."

"Oh okay," she shrugged her shoulders. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, thank you for your time."

Exiting the store, Cho returned to the SUV. Van Pelt looked at him expectantly. He shook his head.

"How about you?"

While Cho was inside, Van Pelt had been desperately trying to track Jane's cell.

"Nothing yet."

Cho started the engine and pulled out of the gas station. They were on the road for about half an hour when Van Pelt's phone rang.

"Van Pelt."

"Hello, dear, it's Marla from the Sheriff's office."

"Marla, hi."

"I've got Deputy Rohen right here."

She heard the phone from the other line switch hands and mouthed 'Rohen' to Cho.

"Hello, Agent Van Pelt?"

"Deputy Rohen, is Agent Lisbon with you?"

"No, sorry she's not."

"Did you not drive Agent Lisbon back to CBI headquarters?"

"No, well, I was supposed to. We stopped at a diner not far from here. Then she went outside for a phone call, when she came back she told me she didn't need a ride anymore. I drove back to my house, fell asleep on the couch. When I woke up, I headed to the office and here we are."

"Did Agent Lisbon say anything about the call?"

"No, no she didn't. But she did seem a little upset by it."

"When was the call?"

"Sometime before seven."

"Why was Mr. Jane not with the two of you?"

"Mr. Jane and Agent Lisbon must have gotten into a fight after we returned Maya Plasket back to her family. Agent Lisbon told me that we could leave, so I did. Hang on a minute, is she alright?"

"She's missing."

"Dear God."

"In the off chance, she shows up, can you give me a call?"

"Absolutely, Agent Van Pelt, you have my word. And if you find her, please let me know. I should have insisted to take her back, that poor woman."

"This isn't your fault, Deputy Rohen," Van Pelt said reassuringly. "Oh, one more question."

"Sure."

"Has Mr. Jane tried contacting you?"

"No, why?"

"No reason, we'll be in touch."

"Yes, alright, keep up the good work."

As Van Pelt hung up, she quickly relayed all the information to Cho.

"At least that's one less person to worry about."

"I wish Lisbon and Jane were with him."

She looked pensively at her laptop.

"What's wrong?" asked Cho.

"I don't know. It's probably nothing."

"Let's just hope Rigsby had more luck than we did," he commented.

"Me too."

They drove in silence when a flashing green flag appeared on Van Pelt's screen.

"Eureka," she said, with a small smile. "I've got Jane."

"Where?"

"_Lacey's Diner_."

* * *

"Rigsby."

"Are you still at the diner?" asked Van Pelt, her cell on speaker phone.

"Yeah, I was just about to call you."

"Was Jane there?"

"No, he wasn't," Rigsby replied, slightly confused. "Why?"

"I tracked his cell to the diner. He must have dumped it there."

"I'll go back and get it. Where are you guys?"

"Forty minutes."

Cho pressed the accelerator down further.

"Make that ten," Van Pelt corrected. "Wait for us."

"Will do. Did you find anything out?"

"Rohen is alive and safe. I talked to him not so long ago," she filled Rigsby in. "He dropped Lisbon off at the diner. She got a call, told him to leave, so he did."

"Who do you think called her?"

"I don't know. I'm trying to get a hold of her phone records."

"Any leads from the diner?" asked Cho.

"A waitress named Courtney said a uniformed man walked in with a dark haired woman at around six. They ordered coffees. Waitress went to the bathroom, when she came back both of them were gone."

"Wait did you say six?"

"Yeah, six, why?"

"Rohen told me that Lisbon got a call sometime before seven."

"Well, Courtney did mention she wasn't sure about the time. Six was her best guess, since the clock on the wall was broken."

"Any word from Minelli?"

"Nada, I did talk to his secretary and she's going to track him down even if she has to fly to Hawaii herself."

"Damn," Van Pelt sighed.

"Hey, we're going to find Lisbon and Jane," Rigsby said encouragingly. "This time tomorrow, we'll all be laughing about this nonsense goose chase."

"I hope you're right."

"We're going to find them, Grace."

She didn't say anything else as she shut her phone. Cho shot a quick glance at the younger agent.

"What is it?"

"I've got Lisbon's phone log and she never got a call around seven."

"That's odd."

"Yeah, something is off."

Van Pelt closed her eyes, in an attempt to gather her thoughts.

"Let's say I'm Jane," she started. "I'm looking for Lisbon who I think was kidnapped by Red John. Naturally, I follow the highway. It's early morning, Lisbon must have been hungry so I check out the diner."

"You talk to the same waitress as Rigsby and find out that Rohen and Lisbon were seen at around six," Cho continued. "So, you try to call Rohen."

"Only Rohen said Jane never called him," added Van Pelt.

Cho furrowed his brows.

"Where are you going with this?"

Van Pelt reached for her cell and dialled the Sheriff's office.

"Good morning, San Angelo Sheriff's Office."

"Hi, Marla?"

"Sorry no, it's Julie. Marla went out for a smoke, maybe I can help you?"

"This is Agent Van Pelt from the CBI. Can I speak to Deputy Rohen?"

"He isn't here at the moment."

"Do you know where he is?"

"He said he had some errands to run."

"Oh, can I have his address so that I can speak to him in person?"

"Sure, it's on his file."

Van Pelt felt her pulse pick up while she was waiting on hold. She never wanted to hear Greensleeves ever again. Thankfully, Julie was quicker on her feet compared to Marla.

"Let's see now, Rohen, Damien Jeffery. So that's what D.J. stands for, go figure."

"Uh, his address, please?" Van Pelt insisted.

"Right, sorry," Julie paused. "Huh, well that's odd."

"What is it?"

"His file lists no permanent place of residence," she paused. "Well that can't be right. I've been to his house before, uhm, oh yeah, a birthday party for his niece a few months ago."

"Do you remember where it is?"

"It's just by the Neulley's Farmer Market. There's a small dirt road and I think you make a right at the fork. Sorry if that's vague."

"No, that's fine, thank you."

Van Pelt finished typing what Julie had relayed onto her computer notepad. She reread it over and over and over again. There it was again, that nagging feeling. She was concentrating so hard, she wasn't even aware that Cho had pulled into the parking lot of the diner.

"Van Pelt? Van Pelt? Are you alright?"

Cho's voice sounded distant as her door opened on its own. Rigsby was standing beside her when she found her voice.

"Damien Jeffery Rohen," she read aloud from her screen.

"That's the Deputy?" Rigsby asked.

"Yeah, but one of the receptionists called him D.J."

The boys looked on as she typed a new name on the next line. Her fingers were trembling so hard, that Rigsby had to steady her hands with his.

"Grace, what's wrong?" he asked.

She didn't say a word as she stared blankly at the screen. Calmly, Cho finished typing the letters. His eyes widened at what he saw.

"Oh my God."

"D.J. Rohen," Rigsby read aloud. "So?"

Cho rearranged the letters. Realization dawned on Rigsby before Cho was done.

"Sweet mother Mary," Rigsby muttered. "Red John."

* * *

_**TBC**_


	4. Lisbon Had Enough

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. No excuses, just wanted to apologize. Here's the real Chapter 4. I removed that God awful author's note. Remember, if I ever do that again, punch me. Okay, few things to address before we get on with the story. 1.) Thank you to everyone who's been reading. You've been a wonderful audience. I hope you continue to be entertained. 2.) I know Jane has been MIA for a while, but he will be back, I promise. I believe the next chapter or the one after, we'll go back in time and see what Jane did prior to when Cho, Van Pelt and Rigsby discovered that he was indeed missing. 3.) There's a clue at the end of the chapter. If you have theories about this clue, feel free to comment on them. I take reviews, PMs, smoke signals, carrier pigeons, you name it. That's it from me. Enjoy!**

**Spoilers: S1 Finale. If you seriously still haven't watched it yet, go do it now.**

**Warnings: This chapter is pretty kid friendly, except for the smidgen of violence. I don't think the rating will go up as I originally intended.**

**Disclaimer: Don't make me say it again. Fine, I don't own anything and although I want to, I'm not making any money from this *sigh* **

* * *

**Chapter 4 – Lisbon Had Enough****  
**

Lisbon wearily glanced at the ragged gash on her leg. The blood mercifully had clotted quickly, leaving only a dark red stain on her pants. Rohen stepped out not too long after giving her the lesson that she wasn't going to forget anytime soon. She was tired, hungry and alone. Her knees were scraped from being tossed around and her wrists were bruised from her struggles to get free. She wanted nothing more than to be curled up in her bed at this moment, enjoying the peace and quiet, instead of in limbo in this nightmarish Hell hole.

"Did you miss me?"

Lisbon glared at Rohen smirking in the doorway, without uttering a single word. He came in with a brown paper bag, setting it down on the table.

"I just had a lovely chat with one of your friends."

Lisbon immediately perked up.

"Sweet voice," he purred. "I can tell she's a red head, my kind of girl."

"You stay the Hell away from her," Lisbon growled.

"Don't worry, your pretty little mind, I don't think she'll find us in time anyway."

"You underestimate my team."

"I don't give a rat's ass about your team. My prize is Jane."

Clenching her jaw, Lisbon's mind began to kick into overdrive. She was done playing mind games with him, time to flip the tables and switch tactics.

"So tell me why all this trouble, Red John? Since you're going to kill me anyway, I like to think I deserve some kind of explanation."

He sniggered.

"You really think that psychological babble will work on me?"

"I don't know. You tell me?" she challenged.

"If you think I'm just going to spill all of my dirty little secrets to you, you're more pathetic than I thought."

"Oh I don't know about that, at least I'm not sloppy with my work."

With narrowed eyes, he glared at Lisbon. Bull's-eye. She hit a nerve.

"Sloppy?"

"Please, it's so obvious that kidnapping me wasn't part of your grand plan."

"Did Jane teach you how to be so aggravating or was that something you picked up all on your own?" he patronized.

"Jane can go to Hell for all I care. I'm quite perceptive when I need to be."

"You're a terrible liar, Agent Lisbon," he paused, before he continued. "Fine, I will admit, I never intended on killing you, at least not this soon."

A nostalgic expression flitted across his face, his arrogant smirk growing bigger by the second.

"Oh but when the opportunity presented itself, I just couldn't help it. I fully expected you to bring Jane back to the cruiser and we would have made the drive to Sacramento. Both of you safe and sound. I had my fix of torturing Jane. Actually, I wanted to disappear for a while, you know, unwind, relax. I hear Hawaii is nice this time of year," he paused and laughed. "Only Jane must have said some real hurtful things to you because you looked hopelessly destroyed. That pathetic, lying, little worm. How dare he. And so here we are. When I'm done with you, I get a front row seat to watch Jane's guilt eat him alive."

Lisbon felt positively disgusted, a blinding rage building within in.

"You know, everything panned out more beautifully than I ever imagined. Jane fell for my little trap, rid me of Dumar and, and my dear, he gave me you. I should really be thanking him right now."

"You're nothing but a trash talking puppet, Rohen. I don't believe for a second you're Red John. He wouldn't do things on a whim."

"If you want I can give you a nice matching scar on your other leg," he warned, his voice dripping with malice. "All you have to do is keep talking."

"Seriously, Rohen? Threats?" she scoffed. "If you were Red John, the real mastermind, you would have killed me ages ago. So the question is who's pulling your strings?"

For a relatively large man, he moved quickly. His face was in hers, his blade dug deep below her chin. Only this time, she didn't feel the least bit afraid, her body pumped on adrenaline and pure hatred. She was done being scared.

"You're not going to kill me."

"The knife in my hand says otherwise."

His mouth was almost touching her own but she didn't turn her head away. The tense stalemate was broken by the shrill ring of a phone. Lisbon cocked a brow at Rohen, a smirk settling on her lips. Her sudden brashness surprised even herself.

"Aren't you going to get that?"

Rohen gritted his teeth but reluctantly released his hold on Lisbon. He was just about to leave the room when he stopped mid-stride. With a menacing glint in his eye, he whipped around and thrust his heel into Lisbon's wounded thigh. A blood curdling scream tore through her throat as searing pain shot up her body. She could only watch as Rohen strode away, satisfaction infused into each step, as her cheeks moistened with unbidden tears. Flipping open his cell phone, he answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Rohen."

Lisbon strained to hear the voice on the other end. It sounded familiar. Her eyes flicked up, landing on his lips, as they twisted into a crazed grin.

"Mr. Jane," Rohen greeted smoothly. "I've been expecting your call."

* * *

"Did you find Jane's phone?" Cho asked Rigsby.

"Nah, before you got here I chatted with the waitress again. No one matching Jane's description ever set foot in the diner."

"Well it's here somewhere. GPS doesn't lie."

"I guess I can check the trash out back."

"Alright, Van Pelt and I will look inside. Maybe our waitress was busy and just missed Jane."

The men nodded as they parted ways. Van Pelt remained where she stood, still somewhat in shock. She refused to believe that Rohen was Red John, sure that they were different people. Their names had to be purely a coincidence.

"Van Pelt?"

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she looked over at Cho and regained her composure.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied stiffly.

Cho looked as though he wanted to say something but decided to keep quiet. The pair walked up the steps and into the diner. _Lacey's_ had seen better days. The once bright red linoleum table tops were faded to a light pink, peeling at the corners and stained with rings from old coffee. The smell of grease and cigarettes hung in the air and had seeped into the fabric of the chairs, foam visible along the stitched seams. Cho lifted his chin in the direction of the restroom and Van Pelt acknowledged. While he disappeared into a small hallway, she moved towards the cash register where a pretty red head was flipping through a magazine. Leaning across the counter, Van Pelt placed her badge in front of the girl's eyes, she immediately looked up.

"You must be Courtney Redding, I'm Agent Van Pelt."

"Look, I've already told the other really cute agent everything I know."

Van Pelt felt an immediate twinge of jealousy at the way Courtney said 'cute.' She pushed the feeling from her mind, berating herself for having such an irrational reaction. Courtney was staring at her, clearly annoyed, as she closed the magazine and tossed it to the side.

"I know," Van Pelt replied, evenly. "I just want to confirm a couple of details."

Blowing her bangs out of her face, Courtney threw her hands up in the air.

"Fine, whatever."

"You work here alone?"

"No, it's me, Denny, Chase and Lee in the back cooking. Obviously it's not just me."

"You told Agent Rigsby that a woman with dark hair and a uniformed man walked in here at six this morning?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Are you sure it was six?"

"Look, like I told him, I'm not a hundred percent sure because our stupid clock is broken but I have a great sense of time."

"Was this the woman you saw?"

Van Pelt handed over a picture of Lisbon.

"Like I told…"

Courtney trailed off as she got a better look at the photo.

"Hang on, no, no this isn't the woman that was in here."

"It isn't?"

"No, I've never seen this woman before."

"But you told Agent Rigsby…"

"I told him that I saw a woman with dark hair, I never said it was this lady."

Van Pelt was stunned as Cho approached her.

"I've got nothing," he announced.

"Well, I do. Courtney says that Lisbon was never here."

"She wasn't?"

"All she told Rigsby was a woman with dark hair was in here, not Lisbon specifically."

"Rigsby doesn't have a picture of Lisbon on him," Cho added, in sudden realization.

"And we jumped to conclusions."

Van Pelt turned her attention back to Courtney.

"Can you give us a better description of these two people?"

"I'm sorry. They were barely in here."

"Anything at all, Miss Redding," Cho said. "Even if you think it's irrelevant."

There was a long moment of silence as Van Pelt and Cho patiently waited for Courtney to dig deep into her memory.

"The deputy, his name it started with an 'R' or a 'P'," she whispered, in deep concentration. "I can't really remember. Ro something?"

"Rohen?" offered Cho.

"Rohen," she said, testing the name out loud. "Yeah, that could be it."

"Anything else?"

"Uh, they were talking about baseball."

A faint alarm went off in Cho's mind.

"Baseball."

"I think so. She had on one of those caps with the team logo on it."

The alarms were now deafening.

"Boston Red Sox," he supplied.

Van Pelt was now looking over at Cho, her mouth slightly open.

"Yeah," Coutrney replied. "How did you know that?"

His stone faced expression didn't falter.

"I must be psychic."

Van Pelt was about to ask him to elaborate when Rigsby came rushing in.

"Oh God, you smell awful," she gasped, covering her nose with her hand.

"Sorry," he replied, sheepishly. "I do have something, though."

In his hand, Rigsby was holding a couple of gears and loose springs.

"That's garbage," Cho deadpanned.

"Actually it's not, they're parts for a clock."

"Well," Courtney interjected. "Our clock _is_ broken."

She was batting her long lashes at Rigsby. Van Pelt rolled her eyes.

"Yes, but why would you take perfectly fine parts and just throw them away?"

The smile on Courtney's face faltered ever so slightly at Rigsby's veiled accusation.

"M-maybe one of the guys, uh, threw it out," she stammered.

"Nice try, Courtney, mind telling us what you're trying to hide?" he asked. "I don't want to have to tell your parents that their daughter is going to jail for obstruction of justice.

The girl looked petrified and was teetering on the verge of tears.

"Okay, okay," she conceded. "Don't tell my parents."

"Talk," Cho ordered.

"The blond man, you were asking about, he was here."

"Jane," murmured Van Pelt.

"Sure, whatever. He said he was a cop and he was asking questions. The same questions as you."

"Did you tell him everything that you told us?"

"Well, yeah, except about the baseball," Courtney replied miserably. "He told me not to tell anyone he was here. He's not going to kill me for telling you, is he?"

Courtney's eyes were wide in fear.

"No, he's not," reassured Van Pelt.

"How much money did he give you to keep quiet?" asked Cho.

Avoiding the gazes of the three agents, she drew invisible circles into the Formica counter top with her finger.

"A lot," she whispered.

The three agents exchanged glances. Rigsby shook his head as he looked at the gears in his hand and then up at the broken clock. A neuron fired somewhere in the back of his brain.

"Courtney," he said slowly as he began climbing onto the table closest to the clock. "Did the blond man take the clock apart?"

"Yes," she admitted. "I didn't know why though."

Van Pelt and Cho watched as Rigsby ripped the clock effortlessly from the bracket it was attached to. He slid out the backing and immediately recognized the foreign object wedged inside before fishing it out with his hand.

"Bingo," he exclaimed. "I found Jane's cell."

Taking the phone from Rigsby's grasp, Van Pelt quickly switched it on and began searching the inbox. There was only one unread message. She hit 'open' and the team stared at the tiny screen.

_DJR:) _

_C10is0RH _

_LH=Bard'sCelia _

_4!LBlauEichel _

_VMAg20_

_TNO_

No one said a word for a long time before Rigsby voiced the thought on everyone's minds.

"What the Hell is that supposed to mean?"

* * *

_**TBC **_


	5. Jane Wanted to be Psychic

**A/N: First off, thank you everyone who's been reading, I'm so glad this story has been so well received. But I have to say, I'm surprised nobody's got an inkling of what Jane's text could mean. Okay to be fair it was a hard message to decode since you don't have all the facts yet but the first line is a gimme :P I wanted to address some of the reviews before moving on.**

**JocelynMcC: On the comment of Rigsby's response: It's funny everyone is confused about the text and are relating to Rigsby. There will be more hints in this chapter :D  
**

**FallIntoAHellCalledLove: On the question of whether Jane is trying to stall the team from finding him - are you psychic? LOL. I'm not going to confirm or deny that one.**

**kathiann: On the question of why Jane didn't leave an easier message - Refer to what I said above. On the comment of Courtney giving Jane the wrong info - this won't be a problem :)**

**XgreeneyedelfX and ****alittleinsane963: On the comment about eye twitches and Jane's message - I'm sorry I had to do it. Jane made me. Blame him!  
**

**GHLover3 and ****Jisbon-Fan: On the comment about cliffhangers - Yes, cliffies are evil except when I'm in control of them XD**

**Ebony10: On the comment about putting you out of your misery - Gah, school sucks eh? I'm in the same boat as you, loads of assignments, papers, labs, exams, projects... Try to get some sleep! I hope I can ease the misery but I can't put you out of it, at least not yet.**

**yazizzle: ****On the comment about the plot - Thank you for your review, I'm so glad you think my fic is like an episode. I tried to make the story as detailed as I possibly can and it really makes me happy to see people enjoying it.**

**borgprincess: On the comment about chocolate - Awww, that's so sweet. I'm craving chocolate now. On the comment about Lisbon - I really wanted to showcase her and her alone. She's a tough cookie aside from being Jane's bickering foil and I thought she deserved some of the spotlight. Even if it is at the mercy of Rohen.**

**lady of scarlet: On the comment about Jane and the clock - Yes, the clock. I heart it. I don't think Rohen realized the clock would kick him in the ass somewhere down the line. There will be more mentions of said clock.**

**House Calls: On the comment about Jane and trusting the team - Faith goes a long way, but will the team figure out his message?**

**Apologies for the longish replies, some of them are kind of pertinent to the upcoming chapters. You can figure out which ones. As for this chapter, it's completely devoted to our favourite CBI consultant. We're going a little back in time, Chapter 2 in fact, when Jane talked with Cho and Van Pelt and realizing that Lisbon was missing. After you read this chapter, look over the cryptic message left by Jane again. Because by the end of this you'll either be able to decipher some of the code or be more confused. That's enough from me, enjoy!**

**Spoilers: The S1 finale.  
**

**Warnings: There's some swearing. I may have dropped the 'f-bomb' so you have been forewarned.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, I'm not making money. Oh and breaking into a car is illegal, don't do it!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 5 – Jane Wanted to be Psychic**

_Sometime earlier that day…_

Jane had just gotten off the phone with Cho and Van Pelt. He felt lightheaded, as if something knocked the air right out of lungs. Taking a few long cleansing breaths, he straightened up and tried to collect his thoughts. _He's _got her. _He's_ got Lisbon. Screwing his eyes shut, he shook his head, forcing the thought from his mind. He had to pull himself together if Lisbon had any chance of staying alive. Waiting for Rigsby was out of the question as he found his feet guiding him back towards the Plasket property. Parked in the dirt driveway was a black pick up truck, most likely belonging to the eldest son, Drake. Jane approached the vehicle almost mechanically. His mind had focused down to one task. Find Lisbon. Taking a flat stick from the ground, he wedged it under the front door, jimmying it open. The car alarm went off for only a few seconds as he disabled it and climbed into the front seat. _Stealing a car? Seriously, Jane, I should have you arrested._ He could almost imagine the scowl on Lisbon's face as she reprimanded him for this stunt. But just as quickly as it came, the smile died on his lips. Refocusing, he pulled out his pocket knife. Jane popped off the cover and the panels surrounding the ignition tumbler. He shoved the screwdriver into the exposed slot and turned. Miraculously, the engine came to life. Throwing the truck into drive, he peeled out of the front yard and onto the highway. He grabbed his cell, hitting two on speed dial.

"C'mon, Lisbon," he muttered. "Pick up."

The call went straight to voice mail. He tried again and again with the same result. After the eighth time, he threw the phone across the passenger seat, letting out a frustrated sigh. He felt stupid. He should have sensed something was wrong sooner. He suddenly wished he was actually psychic. Had he been kinder to Lisbon, the two of them would have probably back in Sacramento right now. At this very moment, going about their daily routine. He should have been annoying Lisbon to no end and Lisbon should have been fighting back with empty threats on his life. Only he knew, deep down, it wouldn't have been like that. Things were fractured between them, possibly beyond repair. After everything that had happened. Red John, Hardy, the words he wished he had never spoken no matter how much he knew they were true. There was no routine to go back to anymore. He gripped the steering wheel tightly in his hands, his knuckles going bone white. His phone rang again. Glancing over he saw 'Rigsby' staring up at him. He wanted to answer it, but he couldn't. He was going to find Lisbon. He was ending this charade once and for all, on his terms. He was going to make Red John pay. Reaching over, he shut off his phone. _Please forgive me_.

* * *

He had stopped in front of _Lacey's Diner_, trying to formulate some sort of plan of action. He had remembered the place on their way into town. Retro, although was in dire need of a fresh coat of paint and some tender loving care, the diner had amazing eggs. He and Lisbon had a quick bite to eat here what seemed like years ago, perhaps even a lifetime.

In some alternate universe, Jane would have walked in and found Lisbon and Rohen inside, talking and laughing. Lisbon would apologize for losing track of time. Then she would subsequently apologize for not waiting for Red John, for being so hard on him, for being the reason that he had to shoot and kill Hardy. In an alternate universe, he would have gone back six years and would have quit playing the psychic fraud, would have never taunted Red John, would have returned home and found his wife and daughter, tucked away safely in bed. Jane closed his eyes, feeling his fragile faith in his humanity slip through his hands. Getting out of the truck, he briskly entered the diner. There were no patrons. No Lisbon. He sighed as he approached the counter, so much for his alternate universe. The girl at the counter, no more than sixteen years old, looked up. Red hair pulled back in a pony tail, bright blue eyes, she was wearing a ratty apron that had the word _Lacey's_ stitched into it.

"Police," he said mechanically.

He flashed his CBI card. She studied it for a moment before staring at him.

"What can I help you with?" she asked, flirtatiously twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

"I was wondering if you saw this woman come in here earlier this morning."

Jane stoically handed the girl a photo. Lisbon had a strange cross between amusement and nervousness across her face in the picture. She had her arm stretched out, tentatively trying to pet the pony he got her for her last birthday. Lisbon in happier times.

"Sorry, no I haven't."

In an instant, she had dropped her southern belle act.

"How about a Deputy by the name of Rohen."

"Uhm, now that you mention it, there was a guy in a uniform in here but he was with another woman."

Jane's interest was piqued.

"Can you describe this woman?"

"Dark hair, light eyes."

"Anything specific?"

"Sorry, they weren't in here very long. You know, she did look somewhat familiar."

"Red hair?"

The question came out before he realized what his brain was processing. He couldn't help make the connection with Rosalind. The girl standing in front of him could have easily passed as a younger version of the blind woman.

"Actually, yeah, reddish."

"Was she blind?"

"No, definitely not. I think she wore glasses though."

He was surprised to feel somewhat relieved after she spoke.

"You work here alone?"

The girl jerked her thumb towards the back off the diner.

"Denny, Chase and Lee are in the kitchen."

"Great, I'd like to speak with them."

"Knock yourself out."

Jane walked around the counter and through the doors. The kitchen looked worse off than the diner itself. In less than a minute, he could feel a film of oil and grease clinging to his skin. Three men were standing in a circle around a small television set, one Asian, two Caucasian. The guy with a large tattoo of the devil on his left bicep noticed Jane first.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" he demanded.

Again, Jane flashed his identification.

"Your lady friend out there said that a woman and a deputy came in here this morning."

"Uh okay, sure," Tattoo replied. "So what?"

"Do you know who they were?"

"How they Hell should we know? We're stuck back here all day cooking. Courtney takes care of the customers."

Jane looked at each one of them. Tattoo was obviously the ring leader, well over six feet tall, shaved head and goatee. The man standing next to him was much smaller in stature, mousy brown hair with shiny braces across his teeth. The last guy had longish straight black hair, almond-shaped eyes, he wasn't nearly as tall as Tattoo but he looked just as built. After making eye contact with each of the men, Jane slowly nodded his head.

"Okay," he paused dramatically before turning to the Asian man. "Lee, is it?"

"Yeah," he replied casually.

"I'd like to have a word with you."

Lee shrugged his shoulders as he followed Jane out of the kitchen. They stepped outside, allowing fresh air into their lungs. Jane cut straight to the chase.

"Tell me what you know."

"What makes you think I know anything?" Lee asked, defiantly.

"When I was looking directly at you and your pals earlier, you were the only one consistently avoiding my gaze."

He sure wasn't avoiding Jane's gaze now as Lee glared at the blond consultant while pulling out a cigarette from his shirt pocket.

"Tell me what you know," Jane repeated, a little more forcefully this time.

"You stay away from her."

Typical, of course it would be about a woman.

"I'm not after your girl. I just want to know where she is so that I can find who I'm looking for."

Freeing his lighter, Lee raised a brow.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your lady friend might have been involved with a kidnapping."

Lee scoffed.

"Lindy could never hurt a soul."

"Do you know where I can find Lindy so that I could ask her myself?"

"Look man, like I said, she would never be involved with anything like that."

Lee's eyes dropped to the ground as he blew out a train of smoke.

"Who's her new guy?" asked Jane, point blank.

"None of your fucking business," he muttered.

"I make it my business. Is it the Deputy?"

Lee's silence was enough of an answer.

"Law enforcement officers can be total pricks."

Crushing the cigarette under his foot, Lee grabbed at the front of Jane's vest.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't splatter your brains across the parking lot," he threatened.

Jane's eyes floated down to where Lee was holding him but remained impassive.

"Blood doesn't go well with asphalt," he quipped. "Colours clash."

Lee tried to level Jane with an angry scowl. Jane didn't even so much as flinch.

"You're a strange police officer."

"This person that's been kidnapped, she means a lot to me. You'd do the same for Lindy if you were in my position."

Loosening his grasp around Jane, Lee stood back.

"Lindy's not involved. If anything it's that stupid Deputy. He's got her thinking that she's the centre of his universe, flowers, perfume, stuffed animals. The guy is a piece of work."

"What's his name?" Jane asked, already knowing what the answer was.

"Rohen," Lee all but spat out. "Asshole. He shows up out of nowhere one day and pretends that he and Lindy are old buddies."

"Do you know where they went after they were in the diner this morning?"

"No, I don't. Lindy and I got into a fight. She left with that son of a bitch."

"When was this?"

"Around six, I think, the clock in the diner is busted."

Jane thought pensively. Lisbon should have been with Rohen on their way back to CBI HQ at that time. Instead he was out gallivanting on his own with another woman. Something wasn't adding up.

"Is there anywhere you know where Lindy might be?"

"She normally works at the gas station up the road. But I think it's her day off. She's probably taking care of her cousin."

"What's wrong with her cousin?"

"I never met her, but Lindy said she was blind. She would run errands for her from time to time."

Jane could feel his pulse quicken, his mind churning with theories. Lindy was Rosalind Harker's cousin. A synaptic connection. Rosalind lied. Rosalind must have known Rohen. Rohen was missing. Lisbon was missing. More jumbled thoughts.

"Thank you," Jane said when he finally found his voice.

Lee snorted noncommittally. As he was about to return to the diner, he stopped.

"Hey, if you find Lindy, can you tell her I'm sorry?"

For the first time during the entire conversation, Lee lost the bravado. He looked genuinely apologetic. Jane simply nodded his head in response. The cook disappeared back inside as Jane pulled out his cell. He went into his call logs. When he found the number he was looking for he hit the green button.

"Good morning, San Angelo Sheriff's Office," a voice chirped.

"Hello," Jane replied smoothly. "My name is Chris Tanner and I'm with the State Technical Services desk in Los Angeles. Who am I speaking with?"

"Julie Whittaker," the woman replied. "What can I help you with today, Mr. Tanner?"

"We're in the process of updating our online personnel database with all the local Sheriff departments and we've noticed that we're missing contact information for one of your Deputies. A clerical oversight on our part, we do apologize. I was wondering if you would be so kind as to relay the information to me. His name is Rohen."

"Oh, okay."

Julie rattled off Rohen's address and phone numbers almost right away, catching Jane off guard. Luckily he managed to scribble it all down on a napkin he pilfered from the diner moments earlier.

"It must be nice working so closely with your uncle," he commented.

"How did you know he was my uncle?" questioned Julie, slightly startled.

He had expected her to put him on hold, pull Rohen's file, and then read it to him. Instead she took just a minute to think about his request and relayed the information. From the sound of her voice, she was too young to be friends with Rohen so that only left family. Jane deduced it wasn't her father, otherwise she would have answered immediately had it been her own home.

"It doesn't matter," he brushed off smoothly, deciding not to share his process with Julie.

"Uncle D.J. is pretty cool. He was supposed to take me to Hawaii to meet up with some friends and to teach me how to golf."

Hawaii. Golf. Another synaptic connection in his brain, this one stronger than the first.

"I have a colleague in Hawaii right now," Jane ventured, cautiously. "He works at the CBI."

"Oh," Julie replied knowingly. "You must know Uncle Virgil then."

Jane felt his throat go dry.

"Hello, are you still there Mr. Tanner?"

"Yeah," he replied with a chuckle. "Sorry, spaced out for a second."

"No worries. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Yes, one last favour. The intern that made the mistake is really embarrassed about this whole incident and my boss would be a little pissed if he found out so if you could keep our conversation just between us I would really appreciate it."

"Sure, no problem, I know the feeling."

Julie laughed and Jane numbly joined in.

"Thank you for your time, Julie."

"No problem. Have a great day, Mr. Tanner."

_Click_. The phone fell from his hand clattering loudly to the ground. He stared blankly at his scratchings on the paper napkin. Rohen. 2450 Blue Acorn Crescent. _He was supposed to take me to Hawaii…_ _You must know Uncle Virgil… Uncle D.J. is pretty cool… _Julie's voice stopped swirling inside of his head momentarily as he subconsciously pieced together what he had known all along. D.J. Rohen was Red John.

* * *

_**TBC - Reviews are much appreciated.**_

**A/N: Okay, I normally hate author's notes on the top and bottom (hate with a fiery passion) but I thought I would refresh your memory on Jane's cryptic text message.  
**

_DJR:) _

_C10is0RH _

_LH=Bard'sCelia _

_4!LBlauEichel _

_VMAg20_

_TNO_


	6. Cho Wanted This Nightmare to End

**A/N: Sorry for the delay everyone. Between school and my terrible writer's block, this chapter was not progressing as I would have liked. Nonetheless here it is. I have to admit it's not my best writing, in fact, I really struggled with it. Mainly because I accidentally deviated from my story plan, not once but twice. Oh dear, what have I done. This installment is somewhat indulgent but at least we're caught up to the present time *yay*. I'm not going to address particular reviews this time, but I will say a few things. Thank you to everyone who left their thoughts on the text. Some of you have a shot at being real mentalists ;) To the others don't be discouraged, I would have been somewhat disappointed if all of you got the code right away when it took me so long to hash it out. I do reveal some more in this chapter. Also, a couple people have asked about whether this fic would be Jisbon or Jello (which is my new favourite moniker for the pair). As of right now, I have no intention of having a romance, considering I haven't completely decided on an ending yet. That being said there is a fluffy moment amongst the drama, so I hope that will quench your need for some light-heartedness for now. Last thing before we get on with the story. I'm starting a 'Did You Notice' segment in my author's notes. It's basically me giving you insight into the weird things I've thrown into the story from the show. For example, did you notice in the last chapter when Jane was pretending to be a guy from tech services while talking to Julie, he used the name 'Chris Tanner.' Chris Tanner was the surfer girl murdered in the episode 'Red Tide.' So if you have nothing to say in your review (besides how craptastic this chapter turned out), you can at least throw me a 'Did You Notice.' Well, that's it, try to enjoy!  
**

**Spoilers: 1x23 _Red John's Footsteps_.**

**Warnings: Jane's disturbingly dark thoughts but nothing more than that.  
**

**Disclaimer: Bruno Heller. He owns not me.**

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Cho Wanted This Nightmare to End**

Jane floored the accelerator, miles of desert sand blurring around the edge of his vision. His focus was on one person, Red John. He felt as though he was in a different place, his mind far from the confines of the vehicle he was currently driving. It was as if he had been living his life half asleep and now was finally waking up, seeing the world in complete clarity. Just a few short minutes ago, he ditched the diner. But not before abandoning his cell with a message for the others, hidden inside the wall clock. For good measure he paid off the young waitress for her silence. He knew it was pointless. Just one look at Rigsby and the impressionable Courtney would be spilling all her personal secrets. He knew the team would be furious with him. He could have easily called and told them exactly where he was and where he was going. He knew he was letting down the people he had come to grow fond of like a family. A dysfunctional one at best, yet still, the closest thing to a family he would ever have. He knew that he was putting Lisbon's life on the line. And while the other details were all seemingly irrelevant, Lisbon was not. When he first joined the CBI, he never thought he'd form such a deep relationship with his raven haired boss. She had brought back a part of himself that he thought had died the night his wife and child did. And how did he repay her for her constant support and friendship? He handed her over to a psychopathic mad man practically gift wrapped. Anger coursed through his veins, a mixture of hatred towards the monster that was Red John and self loathing for allowing Lisbon to be caught in the middle. He was going to take down Red John and save Lisbon, killing two proverbial birds with a single stone, even if he died trying. He pulled up to the recognizable house, virtually unchanged from the last time he had visited. Shutting off the engine, he exited the truck and took the steps up the porch two at a time. His hands pounded on the door and didn't stop until it swung open.

"Hello, who's there?"

Jane watched as Rosalind reached out her hand. Her fingers connected with his face, her large blue eyes staring vacantly out beyond him.

"Patrick, what are you doing here?"

"You know why."

She furrowed her brows, carefully crossing her arms around her stomach.

"No, I don't."

"You lied to me, Rosalind," his voice dangerously low. "You said you didn't know Red John."

"I don't."

"What about Lindy?"

Her mouth dropped open, but nothing came out. She looked genuinely surprised. For once, Jane couldn't tell if she was just that great of an actress.

"I haven't spoken to her in years," she replied stiffly.

"That's not what I've heard."

"Well you've heard wrong."

"Now, I know you're lying."

She pursed her lips before taking a step back and retreating to the living room. Following her, Jane closed the door behind him. Rosalind took a seat by the piano while he remained standing.

"Lindy came back a few days ago with a man," she explained softly.

"Rohen," supplied Jane.

"Yes," a faint smile graced her lips. "But I knew he was Roy. He sounded exactly like Roy."

"Rohen is Red John."

"Don't be ridiculous," she brushed off.

"Rosalind, Red John has Lisbon."

The room fell uncomfortably silent. Jane carefully regarded Rosalind, noticing her eyes faintly widening and the nervous twitch at the corner of her mouth.

"Why are you here?"

Jane didn't respond.

"Patrick?" she called out in a voice barely above a whisper.

Slowly she stood up, her lip quivered before she attempted to bolt from the room. Jane anticipated her reaction. She didn't get far as he grabbed her by the waist. Screaming, she thrashed wildly in his arms to escape.

"Let me go."

"You know I can't."

He ripped the cords hanging from the blinds and used them to bind her hands behind her back. She continued to fight him as he sat her down on the couch.

"You don't want to do this," she pleaded. "I know you're a good man, Patrick."

Jane knew he should have felt at least a twinge of compassion, remorse even, but he was far too consumed by his need for vengeance.

"You need to stop and think this through."

"I am thinking this through. You're going to get me Red John."

"What makes you think he'll want me?"

"Red John is Roy and Roy loves you," replied Jane blankly. "It's simple really."

"Roy isn't Red John," she insisted.

"How can you be so deluded? He tricked you, Rosalind. He tricked you into thinking he's this mysterious man when he murdered my family. I'm not letting him get away, not this time."

"You're the deluded one if you think Red John would just trade me for Teresa."

"But at least I'll leverage."

"You don't mean that."

"Believe me, I do."

She vehemently shook her head, waves of crimson falling into her face.

"You don't want to hurt me."

Her voice was quiet but firm. Liquid blue irises were trained on him, as though their owner was staring right through to his soul. It felt all too unnerving for Jane being pinned under the blind woman's gaze. He forced himself to focus.

"I guess you're a terrible judge of human nature," he admitted bitterly.

"I can see you're a broken man. A good man, but broken."

Choosing to ignore Rosalind's words, Jane retrieved the crumpled napkin burning in his breast pocket. He grabbed the phone off of an end table and dialled. As he waited, he felt his pulse quicken ever so slightly. But other than that, he remained eerily calm. The other end picked up, three long rings later.

"Hello?"

There was a gentle timbre to the man's voice, not one a person would associate with a crazed serial killer.

"Hello, Rohen," Jane replied, his own voice sounded foreign to his ears.

"Mr. Jane, I've been expecting your call."

Unable to stop himself from visualizing the sick grin on Rohen's grimy face, Jane curled his free hand forming a tight fist as he fought to maintain neutrality.

"I want to speak with Lisbon."

"Oh I'm sorry, can I take a message. She can't come to the phone right now."

"Jane…"

His heart leapt into his throat. It was faint but he was sure he heard it. She was alive.

"Lisbon!"

"Now, now," warned Rohen, condescendingly. "You should try to stay focus here."

Whatever control Jane had over his emotions quickly evaporated. Contempt, fear, rage, all fought to the surface.

"I know where you are," he seethed.

"Of course you do," chuckled Rohen. "I'm just surprised you didn't come barrelling in here ready to rip me to shreds. Actually, I'm more surprised it took you this long to find me."

"As much as I would love to tear you apart with my bare hands, did you really expect me to go after you without a plan of my own?"

Jane's gaze floated over towards a quiet Rosalind.

"I propose a trade," he levelled.

"A trade?"

"I have something of yours, you have something of mine."

"And what exactly is this something you have?"

Striding over to Rosalind, Jane held the phone between them.

"Hello, Roy?" she said tentatively into the receiver.

The other end went still for far too long as Jane pulled the phone away from her ear.

"Well," Jane prompted. "Do I have your attention?"

"You wouldn't dare hurt her."

"You obviously don't know me as well as you think you do."

"Then we should remedy that."

"We have a deal?"

"Sure, since you know where I am, come find me."

Rohen was blatantly setting a trap. Jane knew it, but didn't care.

"You can count on it."

He hung up, not allowing Rohen the last word.

"Roy isn't Red John," Rosalind repeated, breaking the silence. "I know him."

Jane sighed, he felt sort of sorry for the woman. She really was blind. Grabbing her arm, Jane forced Rosalind onto her feet. But just as he was turning around, something hard connected with the side of his head. The loud crack radiated from his temple as the room swam in front of his eyes. The last thing he remembered seeing was a faint streak of red, before being engulfed by darkness.

* * *

They had been riding in tense silence. Each of them lost amidst their own thoughts. Cho was driving recklessly down the highway, Van Pelt seated next to him and Rigsby in the back, deciding to take just one van together and ditching the other at the diner. From the corner of his eye, Cho could see that the other two agents were still pouring over the cryptic text that Jane had left them. With the message seemingly burned in his mind, Cho only got as far as cracking the first and last line. The rest may as well have been in an entirely different language. As it stood, Jane was still a step ahead of them. He seemed to have no qualms putting his chance at Red John above Lisbon's life. If it were any other person in harm's way, Cho would have been more sympathetic towards the blond consultant. Only Lisbon wasn't just any other person. She was someone Cho deeply cared about, more than just his boss but a good friend. Had he been the one missing, he knew she would have broken all the rules in the book to find him and he was prepared to do everything in his power to get her back. The tires squealed against the pavement as he swerved onto a dirt road. Cho noticed that Rigsby was now leaning into the space between him and Van Pelt. His eyes shut tight, muttering words aloud.

"I think I've got something," he announced.

"What is it?" Van Pelt asked eagerly.

"Ten is zero," he said slowly.

Frowning, Van Pelt shook her head, still confused.

"I don't get it, how is ten equal to zero?"

"It's not, say it together."

"Ten is zero," Van Pelt repeated. "Ten is zero. Tennis zero."

"Exactly, _tennis zero_. Zero in tennis is love."

"You learn that from Jackie?" Cho couldn't help but mutter.

Rigsby blushed, recalling his date with the feisty country club cougar. He shot a nervous look at Van Pelt, trying to gauge her reaction. Lucky for him, she wasn't really paying any attention to them. After a moment, her eyes lit up.

"Rigsby, you're a genius!"

Turning her head, she impulsively planted a kiss on Rigsby's cheek. He flushed a deeper red at the sudden gesture but quickly regained his composure as Van Pelt began typing on her laptop.

"'10 is 0' is love, then the initials R.H. has to be Rosalind Harker."

"The blind woman," Cho stated.

"Jane must think she's connected somehow."

Cho gripped the wheel tighter in his hands. When he reached the fork, he followed the instructions given to him by Van Pelt and took a right. Frustration was clearly taking its toll on him. His thoughts drifted back to his chance encounter with Lindy, the gas station attendant. In hindsight, he should have been paying more attention to her. Even if she was involved, Cho knew she was long gone by now.

"Lindy's connected to Rohen too," he spoke quietly.

"You still think she was the woman that was with him this morning?"

"I know it was her. She was wearing a Boston Red Sox cap which matches the description that waitress gave us. Actually, now that I think about it, she looked an awful lot like Rosalind. They could be sisters."

"Okay, L.H. could be Lindy Harker," Van Pelt reasoned. "But what does 'Bard's Celia' mean?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," answered Rigsby.

"So we've got 'Rohen is Red John,' 'Rosalind and Lindy Harker', 'Trust No One.' I'm not sure if I'm more confused now than I was before."

Cho was so focused on the message that he failed to notice a large piece of debris lying in the middle of the road until the SUV bounced over it. Instinctively slamming on the brakes, he drifted the vehicle until it came to a complete stop. Both Rigsby and Van Pelt looked somewhat shaken.

"You guys alright?"

Numbly, the pair nodded their heads, their attention noticeably was elsewhere, occupied by what was beyond the front windshield. Nobody dared to say a word. The building just ahead of them was being reduced to a smouldering pile of rubble, engulfed in angry orange flames. The sky was thick with clouds of smoke and ash. SWAT, firefighters and local officers swarmed the scene against the backdrop of the burning blaze and the all too familiar intermitted flashings of red and blue lights. Cho could feel the composed expression on his face start to falter. This nightmare was clearly far from over.

* * *

_**TBC**_


	7. Rigsby Was Done Making Mistakes

**A/N: Apologies again for the delay. These chapters just aren't cooperating with me. Anyhow, I just wanted to thank everyone who's been reading, reviewers and lurkers alike. I've never gotten more than 100 reviews on anything I've ever written. ****So thank you all for your support, it means so much to me. This latest installment brings us back to Lisbon since we haven't seen her in a while. She'll be the main focus for the following chapter as well. ********For this edition of** 'Did You Notice' I'm taking you back to Chapter 3. Did you notice that when Grace is talking with Rohen, the last thing Rohen says is 'Keep up the good work.' This is what Red John IM's to the team while posing as Dr. Joe-NH after he hacked into the DOJ database in Episode 11: _Red John's Friends. _I'm ******n**ot going to say much else. Enjoy!

**Spoilers: 1x23 _Red John's Footsteps_.**

**Warnings: Violence against Lisbon.  
**

**Disclaimer: I'm $10 poorer than I was yesterday. The math doesn't lie. Me am poor. Me not making money.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 7 – Rigsby Was Done Making Mistakes**

When she heard his voice, Lisbon felt her body jolt awake. Jane. He had found her. She knew she shouldn't have doubted him. But after their last conversation, her confidence in him was shaken.

_"I want you to know that you can trust me. No matter what happens, I will be there for you…_"

She could vividly remember the way he looked into her eyes when he spoke those words. Jane was making good on his promise and she was determined to do everything she could to help him. Fighting to keep the pain from her voice, she called out his name. Her eyes slipped closed, hoping that he heard her, praying that he knew she was alive.

"Lisbon!"

She allowed relief to wash over her. But just as quickly as the feeling came, another one immediately took its place. Concern. She knew what Red John did to him. She knew the dark and tormented place that Jane went whenever they were on his trail. Now it seemed as though everything was coming to a head and Jane was playing straight into Rohen's hands.

"Of course you do. I'm just surprised you didn't come barrelling in here ready to rip me to shreds. Actually, I'm more surprised it took you this long to find me."

Rohen still had that smarmy grin on his face as he spoke. He blew her an air kiss as she glared back at him. She wanted nothing more than to rip him to shreds herself. Then suddenly something changed in Rohen's demeanour, his smirk withering from his lips. He turned his back on her. She tried to wiggle her way closer, in an attempt to hear what was being said. But even the smallest shift of her body brought on another wave of agonizing pain. Thanks to Rohen, the wound in her thigh, although shallow, had reopened. She could feel the stickiness of fresh blood trickling down her pant leg.

"Sure, since you know where I am, come find me."

Her eyes widened in horror. Jane was walking straight into Rohen's trap. She wanted to warn him but the call abruptly ended. He remained silent for quite a while before he spun back around to face her, a full out grin in place.

"It's show time."

She had expected him to be more pleased to have caught his prey in his masterful web, but for some peculiar reason he sounded as though he had been knocked down a peg. _What the Hell had Jane said to the man?_

"You're not nearly excited as I thought you would be. Isn't this what you wanted, Jane right in the palm of your hand?"

With a look of amusement, he approached her, squatting down so that they were at eye level.

"Trying your hand at that psychobabble again I see."

She stared daggers at him. He wasn't nearly as intimidating as he was when he was waving that stupid knife around.

"You're easy to read," she said with an air of confidence. "So, what does Jane have over you?"

"I hate to disappoint you, but your precious consultant is nothing more than a pesky cockroach. He's got another thing coming if he thinks he can get leverage on me."

"Jane is a lot more resourceful than you're giving him credit for."

"Funny that you're defending him after what he's done to you. He's the reason why you're even here with me."

She gritted her teeth before spitting in his face.

"Go to Hell."

Sniggering, Rohen's fist collided with her jaw. Lisbon had little time to react as he clutched a fistful of her hair into his hand, twisting her neck awkwardly so that his lips were pressed against her ear.

"I'm going to enjoy killing you slowly right in front of him."

His voice sent involuntary shivers down her spine, but she didn't allow her discomfort to show.

"I guess I'm safe until he gets here."

Their eyes locked. Seconds ticked by, then minutes, she knew he was playing with her. She refused to let him win. Had she looked away, she would have missed the small imperceptible glance he cast towards her left. A path lit up in her brain and the words came out before she could fully process them.

"Jane has Rosalind."

Without warning, Lisbon felt herself being hurled across the room. She landed awkwardly on her side, sprawled on the wooden floor, her entire body throbbing. Before she could recover, Rohen had seized her by the back of her neck.

"Don't you dare speak her name," he fumed.

His meaty fingers dug into her skin, nearly choking her. Black spots had begun dancing in front of her eyes when he finally released his grasp. She stumbled, her arm catching the tip of Rohen's blade as she went down. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, not willing to give him the gratification of hearing her scream. Looking up, she could see him looming over her. She probed her tongue along the crack in her lip. A coppery taste filled her mouth as she stared at the knife pointed at her.

"So much for killing me slowly. Red John would be pissed."

"I don't care," he growled.

Lisbon blinked. She wasn't sure if the lack of oxygen or loss of blood was making her mind play tricks on her. _Had Rohen actually admitted he wasn't Red John?_ His entire body was humming, the pent up fury behind his eyes ready to explode. She couldn't tell if he realized his minor slip-up. But that wasn't what was on her mind as he raised his hand. Functioning purely on adrenaline, she threw herself at him just as the knife came plunging down. Her reaction threw him off balance as he staggered forward, the blade barely missing her as it wedged deep into the floorboards. Discarding his weapon, Rohen swung around, his eyes wild and livid. He charged towards her, his fingers grabbing her ankle. She slammed her foot against the ground in order to shake him loose. He grunted but held on as he dragged her towards him. Just as he had her pinned beneath his grasp, the sound of voices arguing, floated in from the hallway. Rohen quickly scrambled onto his feet as the door was pushed open. Craning her neck, Lisbon followed his line of sight, thankful for the distraction. Only what she saw wasn't who she was expecting. Lisbon had to open and close her lids a few times but it didn't seem to help. She must have loss more blood than she originally thought. She was seeing double. Standing just a few feet away from her were two Rosalind Harkers. One of them had a gun pointing directly at Rohen.

* * *

Rigsby approached Cho and Van Pelt, who were waiting by the SUV. He had just spoken with the explosives expert who was on hand at the scene of the fire. It seemed the house was rigged with a sophisticated bomb, detonated with a combination of high tech electronics and camera parts. As Rigsby relayed the information to his team mates, he felt something about the bomber's signature was oddly familiar.

"We could have been in there," Van Pelt realized. "If we followed Julie's directions sooner, we could have…"

She couldn't bring herself to finish her sentence. Rigsby gave her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. He was getting awfully tired of this chase. If he had insisted on driving Lisbon and Jane from the Plaskets like he had planned, none of this would be happening. Lisbon had told him and Cho to go home. He refused. She insisted. Ultimately, she won. And now, she was missing and so was Jane. If only Rigsby took a different route and avoided the traffic jam, at least Jane would have been with them instead of leaving cryptic messages inside of clocks. Rigsby couldn't help but feel slightly responsible. He locked eyes with Van Pelt. He was done making mistakes. He promised himself that he wasn't going to let anything happen to the beautiful red head, not on his watch.

"Jane wasn't kidding when he told us to trust no one," Cho commented, in a firm tone. "We can't rely on the Sheriff's office."

"So what do we do now?"

Silently, Van Pelt stared down at Jane's phone still in her hands. The men exchanged wearily glances when Rigsby's own cell rang.

"Rigsby."

"This better be some kind of sick practical joke Jane is pulling because if it isn't there will be Hell to pay."

Rigsby felt his eyes pop out of his head.

"Minelli," he paused before correcting himself. "Sir, you got my message."

He had Van Pelt and Cho's undivided attention, both now eagerly watching him.

"Son, I got all twelve of them," Minelli replied humourlessly. "Tell me that Lisbon is with you."

"Sorry, Sir. We're still looking for her."

"I thought that she wrapped the case up with Jane. What in God's name happened down there?"

"Hang on, Sir. Let me put you on speaker."

Rigsby pressed the button and held the phone up between him and the others.

"Someone start talking."

The three agents eyed one another nervously, Cho bravely decided to bite the bullet.

"Lisbon was kidnapped sometime between six and seven this morning. We suspect it was one of Hardy's deputies."

"And Jane?"

Cho sighed.

"We don't know where he is either, Sir."

"Christ. You see this is why I don't go on vacation," he muttered before snapping his orders. "I can call in a few favours, but it's going to take me a while to fly back. In the meantime, find them. Do whatever it is that you need to do. When I get there, Lisbon and Jane better be with you."

"Yes, Sir."

"Oh and Rigsby?"

"Yes, Sir?" he gulped nervously.

"Never ever leave that many messages on my voicemail if you want to keep your job."

The line went dead as Rigsby sheepishly pocketed his cell. He almost didn't notice the serious look that had settled on Van Pelt's elegant face.

"Grace?"

She looked up at him and then quietly passed him Jane's phone.

"The second to last line, V.M., you think that could be Minelli?"

Rigsby studied the tiny screen in his hands.

"What about 'Ag20'?" questioned Cho.

"Age?" Rigsby offered.

"Jane thinks Minelli is twenty years old," Cho deadpanned.

"I don't know what Jane is thinking," Rigsby retorted irritably. "If I did we wouldn't be here."

"Hey man, no need to bite my head off."

Exhaling deeply, Rigsby frowned. He didn't mean to go off on Cho. He was frustrated, cranky and on top of everything else, hungry to boot.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay."

"There's just something about that bomb. It's been bugging me but I can't put my finger on it," Rigsby muttered, shaking his head.

"Don't think too hard, it'll come to you."

Van Pelt was smiling earnestly at him, bringing a smile to his own face. He watched her as she began playing with the silver chain around her porcelain neck. Silver. Staring down at the phone, he felt the grin on his lips widen.

"'Ag' is silver," he explained excitedly. "Silver, twenty, Virgil Minelli."

He dramatically turned his cheek towards Van Pelt. She looked rather startled by his actions.

"What are you doing?" she asked, confusion evident in her eyes.

"He wants you to kiss him again," explained Cho solemnly.

Redness crept into her cheeks as Van Pelt nervously eyed the dirt beneath her feet. Rigsby, disappointed that he wasn't going to be rewarded this time for his cleverness, folded his arms across his chest while shooting Cho a pointed glare. However, Cho didn't respond, his inexpressive mask firmly in tact.

"Twenty pieces of silver," Van Pelt said unexpectedly, breaking the awkward silence.

"What are you talking about?" asked Cho.

"It's a Bible reference. When Judas betrayed Jesus, he was paid twenty pieces of silver."

Judas, the traitor. Rigsby grimaced. The implication of her words hit him. Cho spoke first.

"No, no way Minelli is involved. This is just Jane being paranoid."

"Jane isn't wrong about these kinds of things," Van Pelt countered.

"Jane is wrong plenty of times. I've known Minelli for a lot longer than any of you. He's one of us."

Though Cho had said it with such authority, Rigsby could see the uncertainty clouding his friend's dark eyes.

"Maybe we shouldn't share everything with Minelli the next time he calls," suggested Van Pelt.

Cho simply shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.

"We need to pay a visit to Rosalind. I think that's where Jane was heading after he wrote this message for us."

Rigsby wrinkled his brows. She must have noticed the baffled expression on his face as she continued to explain.

"The letter 'C' in the text, what if Jane meant the word 'see'?"

"See love, Rosalind Harker," Cho said aloud. "Makes sense, she was Red John's lover. But even if Jane was going to see her, he's probably not there anymore."

"I say we try," said Rigsby, which earned him an appreciative nod from Van Pelt. "It sure beats standing around here."

"She lives in Hattiesburg. That's not far from here."

While he was talking, Cho had slipped into the driver's seat. Rigsby held open the door for Van Pelt and then jumped into the back. He took one last look at the charred remnants of the building behind them, still feeling slightly annoyed at his inability to connect the dots in his mind. Peering over at Van Pelt, Rigsby remembered her kind words. Perhaps a change in scenery would help jog his memory. He watched as Cho threw the SUV in reverse, making a u-turn back towards the paved road. Resting his elbows beside the headrests of his colleagues' seats, Rigsby stared listlessly out the window, hoping that luck would be on their side for a change.

* * *

_"I don't think you mean what you say. I think you'd choose life."_

_"Well you think wrong."_

_"No, no, you think wrong. Can't you see that there are people who care about you, who need you…"_

Jane groggily opened his eyes to the distant sound of Lisbon's voice. His vision was still blurry, taking a long time to adjust to the light pouring into the room. His cheek was pressed up against rough carpet, floral print. _Where the Hell was he?_ Gradually he pushed himself off from the ground. He tried standing up but ended up collapsing onto a bench. A piano bench, Rosalind's piano bench. He sat straight up. The memory of being blindsided with a blunt object was slowly coming back to him. On reflex, he touched the side of his head. When he removed his hand, his fingertips were stained a deep shade of incarnadine. Rosalind was no where to be found and neither was his alleged attacker. As he regained his equilibrium, Jane carefully tried to get back on his feet just as the front door was kicked down, splintering in two. Before he knew what was happening, he automatically had his palms raised in the air, staring down the barrel of a gun trained on him.

* * *

_**TBC**_


	8. Lisbon Remembered Too Much Blood

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who've been faithfully reading this little story of mine. I really am very grateful****_. _I hope one day, I'll be writing real scripts, maybe even publish my own book perhaps. And it's partly because of all of you. I can't thank you enough!  
**

**This chapter was difficult to write, not gonna lie. You'll see why when you read it. And I'm sorry for the cliff hangers. They're inherently built into the chapters, please stick through them. I'll try to update as fast as I possibly can. The second part is a bit different in terms of how I structured the POV compared to the past chapters. ****It's going to seem a bit all over the place but there is a reason for that. I'm also**** hoping that nobody comes across as being too OOC. If anyone is confused just let me know. Okay, enough of my nonsensical ramblings. ****Enjoy!**

**Spoilers: 1x23 _Red John's Footsteps._**

**Warnings: Course language, mild violence.  
**

**Disclaimer: If I owned anything remotely worth owning, I wouldn't be killing myself over my degree.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 8 – Lisbon Remembered Too Much Blood**

Her eyes flitted back and forth between the two women. After getting a better look at both of them standing side by side, Lisbon realized that they weren't as identical as she initially thought. The one with the gun was slightly shorter, her hair darker, light freckles across her high cheekbones. She had her arm looped through Rosalind's, who looked as though she had her hands tied behind her back.

"Avalin, what are you doing here?" Rohen demanded.

"Don't be silly, I'm here for you."

The woman named Avalin was waving the gun in the air as if it were some benign object and not the deadly weapon that it actually was.

"Is that you, Roy?" Rosalind finally spoke.

"Shut up," snapped Avalin.

"Lindy," Rohen said slowly. "Put the gun down."

"No, I'm can't do that. Not until you tell me that you love me and not her."

"Roy…"

"I said shut up!"

Lisbon's eyes widened as Avalin pressed the muzzle to Rosalind's temple.

"Avalin, wait," she found herself protesting.

The woman was somewhat startled as her blue gaze settled on Lisbon.

"Who the Hell are you?"

Lisbon's voice got temporarily caught in her throat.

"I-I'm a friend of Rosalind's."

"Agent Lisbon?" Rosalind called out. "Oh thank God, Patrick is looking for you."

"Perfect," Avalin spat out, derisively. "So you're the one screwing that useless psychic."

Lisbon gritted her teeth, already hating this vile woman. Suddenly a disturbing realization dawned on her. Jane had been with Rosalind. If she was here, where was he? Swallowing hard, Lisbon tried to dismiss the dreadful thought answering her question. Her chest tightened. Rohen must have been thinking along the same lines.

"What did you do with Jane?"

A smirk played across Avalin's pouty lips. She didn't think it was possible, but Lisbon knew this crazed woman was far more sinister than Rohen could ever be.

"He won't be bothering us anymore," she replied, infusing her voice with a false sweetness.

Lisbon choked back a sob that was threatening to escape her throat, refusing to accept any possibility that Jane was helpless, alone, hurt, or worse. Squeezing her eyes shut, she feverishly shook her head. _No, stop it, don't go there._

"I told you he was mine!" Rohen roared.

"I'm so sick of all this! What has he ever done for us?" she cried. "Why can't we just forget about that loser so we can finally ditch this fucking town and start our life together? He won't be able to control us anymore!"

"Jane was _mine_!"

What unfolded next, would always be a complete blur in Lisbon's mind. All she could remember was Rohen's large form, charging towards her at full speed. Somehow she had managed to squirm out of his way in the nick of time, as he barrelled into Avalin. Blood rushed to her ears as Lisbon watched in shock, all three of them collapsing in a pile of twisted limbs. It was during the frenzy that a something shiny and silver, caught Lisbon's eye. Her heart leapt for joy when she realized the object was, a key. Using every ounce of her strength, she stuck her good leg out as far as she could and used her heel to drag the piece of metal towards her. Scooting over, she grabbed it and frantically tried to unlock the cuffs from behind her back. After struggling for some time with the key, she finally heard the satisfying click of the restraints as it slipped from her wrists. The euphoric feeling was short lived when the sound of a gunshot echoed through the tiny room. Her head involuntarily snapped up. Lisbon froze at the sight of Avalin, standing not too far from where she was, the woman's finger still suspended over the trigger. For such a petite woman, she had to have been strong. Rohen was knelt on the floor, cradling Rosalind's limp body in his arms. The blind woman's eyes were fixed wide open, a dark vermillion stain blossoming in the centre of her pale blue blouse.

"Sorry, Rosie," Avalin whispered, her voice void of any remorse, "no hard feelings."

Lisbon was overcome with grief and rage. She didn't even realize her knuckles were bone white from clenching her fists so tightly. Silently, Lisbon vowed to get justice for Rosalind's senseless death. From beneath her lashes, she watched Rohen as he laid Rosalind on the ground, tenderly closing her lids with his fingers. It seemed Rohen had a human bone in his body. Lisbon felt sorry for him, but only for an instant. He had been eerily composed, _too_ composed. His tell, giving him away, was the large vein throbbing at the base of his thick neck. Lisbon knew he could explode at any given moment. Cautiously, she inched towards the door, testing how much weight she could put on her injured leg. The sharp breath she took was the dismal answer. By now, Rohen had calmly got to his feet with Avalin at his side like a lovesick puppy, grasping his arm.

"You're right, my darling," Rohen said suddenly. "He can't control us anymore."

"I knew you'd see it my way."

Lisbon shifted her attention away from Rosalind's lifeless form when she noticed Rohen as he bent forward. After a few tries, he successfully freed the knife from the floorboards. He smiled widely, the blade gleaming in his hand and then all of a sudden, his arm violently swung around. This time, Lisbon couldn't stop the scream from ripping through her throat.

* * *

Van Pelt all but ran up the steps, her pulse quickening at the sight of a perfectly round red stain on the porch.

"I've got blood," she said softly, looking over at Rigsby.

Before she could give the signal, Rigsby had already kicked down the door. She ran in first, her weapon drawn. Upon entering the living room, she noticed that she wasn't alone. The stranger immediately was on his feet, hands raised in the air as she directed her gun at him.

"Jane?"

Relief instantly flooded her as she dropped her arm and rushed to his side.

"Oh thank God, you're okay."

Unexpectedly, Van Pelt threw herself at Jane, pulling him into a tight embrace. He didn't reciprocate her gesture, not that she cared. She didn't release him until she heard Rigsby and Cho clear the rest of the house.

"You shouldn't be here," Jane said, finally speaking.

Van Pelt frowned as she stared at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"You weren't supposed to find me this quickly."

She didn't quite understand what he meant as she noted for the first time the gash on this side of his head. Taking out a handkerchief from her pocket, she gently dabbed at the blood. Jane flinched at her touch and gently pushed her hands away.

"I'm fine," he mumbled.

"No, you're not. What happened?"

"It's nothing."

"Van Pelt," Cho called out from behind her.

Immediately, she swung around, noticing that Cho still had his gun in front of him. He had it pointed directly at Jane.

"What are you doing?"

"Cuff him."

She looked at him incredulously. She must have heard him wrong.

"Did you just say, cuff him?" she laughed nervously. "This is crazy, why would we need to cuff him for?"

Her eyes kept going back to Jane but the consultant remained uncharacteristically quiet, not uttering a word to defend himself.

"You know why," Cho's monotone had a harsh edge to it.

"Cho, please," she begged.

Rigsby felt uncomfortable with the entire situation. Seeing the pained look in Van Pelt's eyes caused an ache in his chest. Yet he remained next to Cho, his own weapon still drawn on Jane.

"Please don't make me."

"Grace, just do it," Rigsby said gently.

When she met his gaze, he felt his heartbreak, she looked utterly betrayed. Reluctantly, she holstered her gun and pulled out her handcuffs. Jane calmly held out his hands in front of him as she clasped them in place, tears glossing her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

A light smile appeared across Jane's lips.

"It's okay, Grace."

Van Pelt backed away. She lowered her head as she fled the room, not once making eye contact with either of her colleagues. Unable to stop himself, Rigsby followed in her wake, leaving Cho alone with Jane.

"Smooth," Jane commented, breaking the silence.

Without saying a word, Cho approached the consultant and steered him out the front door. They were beside the SUV, when Cho finally spoke again.

"Where's Lisbon?" he demanded.

"I thought you figured out my message."

"Cut the crap. Where is she?"

Jane could feel the aggravation emanating from the normally composed agent.

"2450 Blue Acorn Crescent."

Opening the door, Cho helped Jane into the back seat.

"I hope you know that I'm doing this for Lisbon."

"I know."

"And for Van Pelt and Rigsby."

"I know."

There was hint of regret in Jane's eyes. Cho decided to ignore it.

"Lisbon is okay. I know she's okay."

Cho was unsure who Jane was trying to convince. In any case, the former psychic wasn't at all persuasive.

"For your sake, I hope you're right."

Slamming the door shut, Cho quickly approached Van Pelt and Rigsby. The latter was simply staring longingly at the former. Neither one was speaking.

"I'm taking Jane, you guys follow in the Plasket's truck," ordered Cho.

"I'm going with you," Van Pelt insisted firmly.

Ping-ponging his gaze between the two, Rigsby felt as though he was caught in the middle of a showdown. The three of them have been working together for almost two years now. Never had their team dynamic gotten this strained. Rigsby was worried this time, when everything was said in done, their relationship was going to be beyond repair.

"Fine," the expression on Cho's face softened. "It's not that I don't want to trust Jane."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

Cho could understand Van Pelt's anger, but remained impassive. He would take the abuse. He would pretend not to care. This wasn't about him.

"Let's go, Lisbon is still out there."

Her mouth pressed down into a thin line at the coldness in his voice. She knew this was how he was. Cho was trying to stay objective to do his job, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

"I want to find her just as much as you do. So stop pretending you're the only one that cares about her."

The second the words were said, Van Pelt knew she couldn't take them back. Rigsby tried to reach out to her, but she turned away from him. Disregarding the hurt expression in Rigsby's eyes, she headed towards the SUV. When she was out of earshot, Rigsby glared at Cho with an unsettling intensity.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he whispered. "Because the next time I need to chose sides, I'm picking hers."

They held each other's gaze only briefly, before heading in opposite directions to their respective vehicles. Rigsby climbed into the truck. He let out his frustration against the steering wheel. It didn't surprise him, that he didn't feel any better.

* * *

_She was lying on the ground against the cold damp pavement. Her body surrounded by shards of broken glass and twisted metal, her long dark tresses matted down by rain and blood. She felt a dull throb from inside her head. She must have hit it against something. Any attempt to sit up was useless. Her vision blurred every time she moved. Large wet droplets fell relentlessly, stained red. _

_ "Teresa?"_

_ The voice was weak but she heard it, floating from somewhere in the distance. _

_ "Mom?"_

_ "You o-okay?"_

_ "I think so. Where are you?"_

_ "I-I…"_

_ "Mom?"_

_ Everything went completely still. _

_ "Mom? Mom!"_

_ There was no reply. Panic rose within her._

_ "Mom!"_

_ Carefully, she turned her head towards where she thought her mother was. A searing white pain shot down from her head to her toes. She forced herself onto her hands and knees and began crawling over the shattered glass. The hem of her floral print skirt ripped and her palms and knees were scrapped up but she didn't care. Her focus was on a dark shadow in the middle of the road. _

_"Mom!" she called out again and again until her voice became raw._

_Every time she pushed herself forward it seemed as though she was moving further away. The rain was pounding down on her now, creating rivulets of red. After what seemed like an eternity, she was finally beside the motionless figure. Then, everything came into focus all at once. There was so much blood. A strangled cry escaped her lips as she reached out to gently touch her mother's cheek, the only part of her that wasn't marred by red. She could hear sirens in the distance as she snuggled into her mother's limp arms, her warmth fading quickly. Her eyes slipped shut, spilling tears down her cheek, but she could still see it, still smell it, pervading her senses. There was so much blood, too much blood…_

* * *

_**TBC**  
_


	9. Jane Could Taste His Revenge

**A/N: I am, so very, very, VERY sorry. This update is extremely late, I know. I sincerely apologize for the delay. I do have somewhat of an excuse. I've been busy with my new venture. Please come check out my Mentalist forum if you haven't done so already: jello-forever(dot)proboards(dot)com. It's not just for Jello fans but for all fans. It's already exceed my exceptions and I want to thank all those who have supported it in its first month. End of shameless self promoting plug.  
**

**I hope everyone who has been reading can forgive me for neglecting this fic. I will do my best to have the next chapter up in a timely manner and have it well written and edited. If you find mistakes, let me know. I haven't been very good at betaing my own work as of late. Okay, enough of me grovelling. I hope there's still readers interested. If you are sticking it out with me, thank you very much. Now, enjoy.**

**Spoilers: References from 1x23 _Red John's Footsteps_.  
**

**Warnings: Mild violence. Nothing major. Does cliffhangers count as a warning?  
**

**Disclaimer: One day, just one day, I may meet the wonderful creator of these characters. That's as close I'm going to get to actually "owning" them.**

* * *

**Chapter 9 – Jane Could Taste His Revenge**

Jane didn't say a word, quietly observing the unspoken battle between the two agents sitting up front. A thick silent cloud had seemingly descended upon the occupants of the van, suffocating them. Jane remembered when he used to revel in silences. Silences were when he could perform at his best. Silences were for clarity, observation with no distractions. Of course, that was before, a lifetime ago.

Cho never once lifted his eyes off the road ahead of him, looking extremely focused, more so than usual. Van Pelt, on the other hand, would glance at Jane in the rear-view mirror every other minute, her face in a state of perpetual remorse.

He wanted to laugh, laugh at how the team had turned on one another, laugh at the absurdity of the day's events, laugh at the fact his plans for vengeance had failed so spectacularly. It was Murphy's Law at its best. He underestimated the team's capabilities. He underestimated Lindy Harker. He underestimated his faith in Lisbon.

Lisbon. A smile, although small, flitted across his lips. She was alive. The smile faltered, ever so slightly. He didn't quite comprehend why it had felt so good to hear her voice. He could picture her incredibly bright green eyes and the annoyed expression she reserved only for him after he pulled another one of his crazy stunts.

Again, he could feel Van Pelt watching him. He didn't want her pity. He surely didn't deserve it. Averting her gaze, Jane stared down at the restraints holding his hands together. Had Cho really thought that having him cuffed would stop him from exacting revenge on Red John? It would be more challenging, yes, but he wasn't going to let flimsy metal deter him from his ultimate goal. Jane could almost taste it. He was so close.

_"If we catch Red John, he's not walking anywhere he's mine."_

_"Don't talk like that, I can't let you near this case if you start talking crazy like that."_

_"Crazy? You're crazy if you think you're going to stop me. Red John is mine. You try to stand in my way, and you… you will regret it."_

It was hard to believe that conversation happened just yesterday. The hollow words echoed in his mind. He knew it was all part of the plan to trap Hardy, but what he had said, to some extent, he had meant it and still meant it.

The SUV stopped abruptly, pulling Jane from his thoughts. Cho killed the engine and finally spoke to Van Pelt, his focus still trained straight ahead.

"I don't want to fight with you."

Cho sounded tired, he uncharacteristically looked it too. The red headed agent folded her arms, trying to feign an air of nonchalance.

"Then let's not fight."

"Someone needs to stay with Jane."

"Jane is not going anywhere," she replied stiffly.

"Hey guys, no need to refer to me in third person. I'm sitting right here."

Jane didn't want them to argue. He truly didn't like the fact the team was fracturing like this because of him. None of them would even be in this situation had they never gotten involved with him and, by association, Red John. If they wanted to be angry, he'd rather it be with him.

"Grace, let Cho and Rigsby find Lisbon."

This time, Cho twisted around to face him. The consultant could see suspicion set in his colleague's dark eyes, but his face gave nothing else away.

"It's okay," Jane insisted softly. "Really."

Van Pelt furrowed her brow as she slowly nodded her head. Cho shot one last warning look at Jane before he rather reluctantly exited the vehicle.

"What's going on?" Rigsby immediately asked noticing that the Asian agent was alone. "Where's Van Pelt?"

"Let's just find Lisbon."

Rigsby looked as though he was going to argue when Cho stopped him.

"Jane can't do anything stupid. Van Pelt is out of the line of fire. You should be thanking me."

Closing his mouth, Rigsby nodded his head tightly as they made it up the dirt path to a rather ordinary but quaint brownstone. The yard was well tended, honeysuckle sprawling across the front garden.

"Sure doesn't look like the home of a psychopathic murderer," Rigsby commented.

Cho simply reached for his gun, Rigsby followed. The pair exchanged glances as Cho kicked the front door in.

* * *

"Why didn't you just call us?"

Van Pelt had broken the silence just moments after Cho's departure. They were again looking at each other through the rear view mirror. He couldn't quite read the expression in her eyes.

"I thought I could save Lisbon myself. You know how much I care about her."

He didn't realize admitting that statement aloud could ever cause him to feel so vulnerable. Jane pushed the emotion aside, focusing instead on the task at hand.

"I know you care about her. We all do," she paused and sighed deeply. "That text message…"

"I knew you guys could figure it out. Besides, you had me as a teacher. I like to think I taught you well, too well, evidently."

"What do mean by that?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Why did you see Rosalind first if you knew Lisbon was here?"

"You're a smart girl."

"Quit patronizing me."

"I'm not trying to patronize you, Grace."

Van Pelt swivelled around in her seat so that she could talk to Jane face to face.

"Cho has this crazy idea in his head that you'd kill Red John if you had the chance."

"You're right, that is crazy," he quipped effortlessly.

"That's what I told him," she offered Jane a reassuring smile. "You wouldn't be that selfish."

_If only you knew, Grace, if only you knew._ Putting on a brilliant smile of his own, Jane lifted his chained hands towards her.

"Don't you think these are rather unnecessary?"

"Oh, right."

Sheepishly, Van Pelt reached for her keys and unlocked the handcuffs. But before she knew what was happening, Jane had enclosed the mental restraint around one wrist and clipped the other end to the steering wheel. Van Pelt was momentarily stunned.

"What are you doing?"

This time, the expression in her eyes was one Jane was very familiar with, a mixture of disappointment and hurt. He felt an unexpected pang in his chest.

"I'm sorry, Grace."

She stared at him speechlessly as he took the keys from her hands and slid out of the backseat. Shutting the door behind him, he headed towards the black truck without another glance backward. He opened the driver's side door and grabbed his pocket knife from the ignition. His eyes were trained on the house in front of him. Red John was within the confines of those walls. Jane could feel it in his veins. There was no time to feel remorse. There would be time later.

* * *

Cho had taken the main floor while Rigsby headed upstairs. When they went their separate ways, the stoic agent felt rather uneasy about the eerily quiet house. He kept his gun steadfastly out in front of him, guiding it from room to room. Nothing so far seemed to even remotely reveal the sinister nature of the current occupant. That all changed when he entered the last room. His eyes soaked in every detail from every angle. There were no windows, no furniture, except for a lonely bookcase propped up against the east wall. DVDs and old videotapes lined the shelves. The rest of the floor was filled with boxes upon boxes of lenses and wires. Something flickered in his mind. Before he could pinpoint the exact reason why the camera parts looked oddly familiar, Cho heard a loud thump from above him followed by the crashing sound of glass. He spun around in an attempt to reach the staircase. He had only barely taken a step when the door behind him slammed shut on its own. He reached for the handle, twisting it in vain.

"Perfect," he muttered.

He mustered his strength to kick the door down just as he had done earlier. The wooden frame remained in tact, his foot barely making a dent from contact. Cho suspected that the door was dead-bolted from the outside. He should have noticed it before walking in. Under normal circumstances he would have noticed it. Determined to free himself, he searched the room for something he could use to break down the door, hoping that Rigsby had at least found Lisbon safe and sound.

* * *

Rigsby could feel his heart pounding loudly in his ears as he climbed the steps. He was certain he heard voices. He couldn't be sure though. Swiping the bead of sweat that managed to trickle down the side of his face, he kept his back against the wall as he slowly walked down the corridor. The door on the right was slightly ajar. He inched his way closer, straining to his ears to pick up any sound. Silence. Just as he was about to reach the door, he felt something pull him backwards. His gun clattered to the floor as he hit the ground. Thankfully, his years of training kicked in and his body automatically began fighting off the unfamiliar man. Whoever it was, he was built like a tank. He ploughed into Rigsby, sending them through the door leading into a small bathroom. The sheer force caused the pair to crash through the shower. Glass shattered and flew in every direction. A sharp pain tore through Rigsby's shoulder, having caught himself on a jagged shard. He lay sprawled on the floor at the mercy of his attacker. Rigsby didn't get a chance to catch a good glimpse of the man's face, just the back of his head, dark straight hair. That was the last he saw as the door slammed shut. Another agonizing wave of pain rippled down his arm when he tried to pick himself off the floor. He enjoyed the little relief he got from pressing his face against the cool tile, hoping that Cho would find him before his assailant came back to finish him off.

* * *

Jane locked the door and headed towards the stairs. _Sorry, old friend. _He couldn't let anyone get in his way, not this time. Functioning purely on adrenaline, Jane wrapped his fingers tightly around the red handle of his pocketknife. He had almost reached the staircase when _he_ came into view.

"Ah, Mr. Jane, I've been expecting you."

His beady eyes bore into Jane's. The former psychic didn't need special powers to recognize the dark red stains splattered across the deputy's uniform.

"Blood is just so hard to get out of clothing, isn't it?" remarked Rohen flippantly.

"Where is she?" Jane growled.

The sick smile on Rohen's face grew wider as he casually shrugged his shoulders. Jane could plainly see that he had a gun firmly grasped in his left hand. Lisbon's gun.

"Why don't you tell me where she is, hmm? After all, you are the psychic one."

Jane couldn't take his eyes off the weapon.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about this thing," he waved the firearm in the air. "I'm very much against bullets. They're too quick, too painless."

Rohen took a step towards Jane.

"I've waited a long time for this moment," Rohen sighed.

"So have I."

Chuckling, Rohen cocked his head to the side. The two circled each other with only a burgundy ottoman separating them. Slowly yet deliberately, Rohen took another step closer to Jane and placed the gun atop of the wooden coffee table. His black eyes never left Jane's. When Rohen straighten, he raised his palms up in mock surrender.

"I thought it would be fair if we were both on an even playing field. I can't be armed when you're not."

"You've got a knife in your pocket and you know I've got one in mine."

Rohen grinned.

"Impressive, it seems you are psychic. It's too bad it didn't help your wife and daughter."

Whatever control Jane had, snapped. He lunged towards Rohen. The blade missed his arm by a hair. Rohen took the opportunity to tackle the consultant as his pocketknife was knocked out of hands. Landing on his back, Jane could only watch as Rohen raised his own knife. Jane held his arms out in defence and managed to grab a hold of Rohen's wrists, pushing with all his strength as the knife hovered dangerously close to his chest.

"I hope you rot in Hell for the way you destroyed my family," Rohen sneered, his eyes filled with pure hatred. "I just only wished Agent Lisbon was here to see this."

The words hadn't completely left his mouth as a blinding rage took over Jane's senses. Suddenly, Rohen flew backwards, sending his knife skittering across the wooden floor. The blade came to a rest within Jane's grasp. He reached down for it and slowly stood up, just as Rohen was scrambling to his feet.

"Where is she?" Jane demanded for the second time, his voice shaking furiously.

Rohen simply smirked at him.

"Where is she?"

Waving the knife madly in the air, Jane stalked towards Rohen. The man didn't look frightened, not in the least bit as he had backed himself into a corner with no escape. A silent alarm went off in Jane's mind.

"You'll never find her," Rohen sniggered.

A devastating sense of hopelessness filtered through his anger at the realization that Lisbon was just another casualty of his arrogance. He allowed his grief to fuel his rage and was ready to plunge Rohen's own knife into the man's flesh when he heard a loud blast from the hallway. It was enough of a distraction. When Jane had returned his focus on Rohen, he was once again staring down the barrel of Lisbon's firearm. Jane almost laughed out loud. This routine was getting old.

"Not exactly what I planned but it'll have to do."

"So much for not believing in quick and painless deaths," Jane deadpanned, which would have made Cho proud.

"Well, you win some, you lose some," Rohen shrugged. "I would ask you to say hello to Agent Lisbon for me but we both know you won't be seeing her."

Rohen's words shouldn't have hurt, but they cut through Jane deeper than any knife could. An unbidden tear escaped Jane's eye for the loss of a friend. At least he had the chance to feel her smile.

"So long, Mr. Jane."

The explosive sound of a gunshot reverberated through the consultant's ears as the knife slipped from his grasp.

* * *

_**TBC**_


	10. Van Pelt Believed in Compassion

**A/N: Yes, I'm back. Yes, it's a new chapter. No, the writer's block has not gone away. So I have not been having any luck whatsoever with this fic. I've had more luck playing Big 2 with friends than I do with writing at the moment. But on the bright side, the Jellies are underway and voting is taking place at Jello-Forever. If you're confused by what I just said, read my profile. If you're a member of my Mentalist forum, go over, register and vote for your favourite Mentalist fanfics! Plug done. *whew* Anyhow back to the story... It's almost over. I think I only have a few more ideas before tying up the loose ends. The rest isn't written yet so it's hard to say how this all wraps up. I guess I'll have to see where my muse takes me. Apologies again for the lateness. I do hope the next chapter will be up within the week. As for this chapter, there's less dialogue more inner thoughts, particularly from Van Pelt's POV, some Cho. I can't give too much away. Oh and one last thing, this chapter isn't beta'd, so I might go back and change a few things. I just really wanted to post an update. I highly recommend you re-read Chapter 9 again too. Well, that's it. Thank you to all those who have been reading. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for everyone who's put me on their Alert and Favourite Lists. TY TY TY! So, all I can say now is, enjoy.**

**Spoilers: 1x23 _Red John's Footsteps_.**

**Disclaimer: I tried to appeal a judge's decision to grant me full rights to everything related to the Mentalist. Unfortunately, Mr. Heller has very well paid lawyers.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 10 – Van Pelt Believed in Compassion  
**

She wasn't exactly sure what had happened. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She knew. She just refused to believe it. Sitting completely still, Van Pelt stared at the silvery glare bouncing off her wrist. The entire situation seemed too farfetched to be real. She tugged her arm. No, she was definitely cuffed to the steering wheel of Cho's CBI issued vehicle, care of one, Patrick Jane. She really had to learn not to be so trusting. She should have learned her lesson by now. What was that old adage her Gran used to say? _Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me._ Letting out a frustrated groan, Van Pelt focused on finding something, anything, to free herself. Unfortunately for her, the van was virtually spotless. Aside from a discarded bag of chips, which probably was Rigsby's and a black hair tie, there was nothing she could remotely fashion into a lock pick. She instantly frowned, the black elastic holding her attention. With her free hand, Van Pelt reached over and plucked it from the floor. There was no question in her mind that the band belonged to Lisbon. Her gaze floated over to the house just up a small hill. Cho and Rigsby were taking an awfully long time, too long. She uncomfortably shifted in her seat. She needed to get out. Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the unmistakable sound of gunfire. Two successive shots followed by the briefest of pauses before a third and final pop. Her mind raced at light speed with the same question. Who was shot? Lisbon? Rigsby? Cho? Jane? She was staring at the band in her hand when inspiration hit. Reaching up, she freed a bobby pin from her bun, her hair cascading down onto her shoulders in the process. Wedging the two ends apart with her teeth, she attempted to unlock the cuffs.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," she muttered, praying that sheer will would be enough to break the metal apart.

It was faint, but when she heard the gratifying sound of the mechanism snapping open, she didn't even bother removing the end attached to her wrist as she all but flew out of the SUV. With her hand immediately on her gun, she was through the door in minutes. The house was dead silent. A small hallway leading to a kitchenette on her right, a staircase to her left, but what caught her eye was the open alcove just ahead of her. The figure closest to Van Pelt was standing with his back towards her. A gun, similar to her own, was held steadily in his tight grasp. He turned around and her eyes locked with Cho's, if only for the briefest of moments. Cautiously, she approached him. It was hard to tell what had happened by the blank expression on his face. He slowly dropped his arm and she followed suit, taking the empty space beside him. Nervously, she turned her head and stared into the living room. A small gasp escaped her lips. Even after spending almost two years with the team, she was still getting used to seeing crime scenes in high definition. She should have expected the blood, yet it still managed to surprise her. Deep scarlet against varnished wood, a single bullet wound through the skull of a man dressed in uniform, stained in the same colour as the floor, a logo emblazoned with 'San Angelo's Sheriff's Department' on his breast pocket. He lay sprawled on his back, crimson trickling from his gaping mouth. When she got over the shock, Van Pelt reacted almost automatically. She knelt down beside the body and pressed two fingers against his neck. A second passed, followed by another, before she felt a faint flutter beneath her touch.

"He's alive," she whispered in disbelief.

When she looked up, she found herself staring at Jane. He was barely standing, his shoulders slumped forward slightly, his eyes glazed over in utter despair, blond curls matted to his temple in dried blood. Van Pelt instantly recalled the time she had caught him crying. That was when she realized just how damaged Patrick Jane really was. She was so used to the 'happy go lucky, arrogant, but seemingly always right' routine he pulled on a regular basis. So when she saw him break down and completely vulnerable, it shook her perception of him. But the pain she saw then was unparalleled to what was radiating from the depths of his gaze. She should have been angry, furious with the stunt he had pulled just a few short minutes ago. Instead, she felt her heart breaking for him.

"Jane?" her voice sounded timid to her own ears.

She was about to reach out to him when a hand clamped down on her wrist. She didn't have enough time to even scream as a bullet ripped past her. Her eyes were wide, her heart pounded wildly against her chest. She was only able to stare speechlessly at her saviour from across the room as Cho holstered his weapon and hurried to her side.

"Are you okay?" he asked, monotone, not even the slightest of reactions.

Numbly, Van Pelt nodded her head in response, accepting Cho's outstretched hand. From the corner of her eye she could see Jane, now bent over the body. The corner of his mouth twitched before he grabbed the deputy by the collar of his shirt.

"You don't get to die like this, you miserable son of a bitch," he seethed in a voice barely audible. "You should pay for what you did her. You deserve to suffer…"

Jane violently shook Rohen as though the man could be pulled from death's doorstep. Van Pelt wanted desperately to look away but she couldn't, all she could do was watch as Cho pried Jane away. The stoic agent's hands firmly grasped Jane by the shoulders, forcing the two of them to look at each other, face to face.

"Get a hold of yourself, Jane," Cho said evenly. "Forget about Rohen. Lisbon is still out there. She's alive, I know she's alive and we're going to find her."

The calming words seemed to have their desired effect as the fury receded from Jane's eyes and the wheels began turning inside of the consultant's head. After only a few seconds, something must have clicked. Jane was muttering nonsense to no one in particular as he spun around and stumbled into the hallway. Without a word, Cho followed closely behind, leaving Van Pelt alone in the living room with Rohen. She remained frozen in place, drawn in by Rohen's vacant stare. She knew he was already as good as dead before the fatal shot. She knew. But for some reason that didn't make her feel any less remorseful. A life was taken, albeit from an evil man. A life was still a life. She wondered what went wrong in Rohen's life to have led the man to his cruel fate. Crouching down, Van Pelt hesitantly slid Rohen's lids shut with her fingers before she straightened to join Cho and Jane. They were already on the second floor when she made it to the stairwell. She climbed up and noticed Cho standing at the end of a rather long hallway. Jane must have been inside of the furthest room. But before she could reach them, a muffled sound caused her to spin back around. Though she didn't notice it the first time she walked past it, the door to her right was splintered down the middle panel, the knob no where to be found. She took the pre-emptive measure of wrapping her fingers around her gun as she slowly swung the door open with her foot. Glass littered the aquamarine tiled floor in front of her, with someone lying face down in the middle of the debris.

"Rigsby," she breathed as she rushed over to his side.

He grunted as she helped him to sit up. She noticed a particularly nasty shard of glass had lodge itself into his flesh above his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she asked before mentally slapping herself on the forehead. "Of course you're not."

"The gunshots..."

"Cho," she explained. "Red John, Rohen, he's dead."

Relief flooded his face, momentarily.

"And Lisbon?"

Van Pelt simply shrugged her shoulders.

"I, we don't know."

"Well, what are we sitting around here for?"

He tried in vain to get onto his feet but ended up falling back into Van Pelt's steady arms.

"We need to get you to a hospital."

"I'm fine."

"Rigsby, you're hurt."

"Really, it's okay," he insisted.

A crooked smile formed across his lips.

"I'm beginning to think that bathrooms are hazardous to my health."

She grinned at his remark as he chuckled. His body tensed against her when he winced.

"Rigsby…"

"No," he stared at Van Pelt earnestly. "We're finding Lisbon first. If it were me out there, Lisbon wouldn't stop looking."

Van Pelt couldn't say no to the determined look on Rigsby's face as she helped him off the floor, wrapping an arm around his back for support. Unexpectedly, he reached over and brushed a loose strand of hair that had fallen into her face. She was stunned for a moment as he noticed for the first time, the handcuffs attached to her wrist. She followed his gaze but offered no explanation. Thankfully, he didn't pry. She held his attention as she brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth. Blushing a vibrant red at the gesture, Rigsby opened and closed his mouth but no words came out. He fixed a questioning look at her as she could feel her own cheeks coloring.

"That was for earlier."

* * *

Cho has killed many times before. He was good at his job, great in fact, one of the best state agents, at least according to his annual reviews. Yet behind that impassive pretence, it still affected him when he had to take a life. Of course he never showed it. Everyone saw him as cool, calm, collected Cho. Most of the time he was the epitome of stoicism, but this case had been different from the get go. It always was when it involved Red John. He was still convinced that Rohen wasn't their man. But this entire day did remind him of when he had slipped up once before, allowing Jared Renfrew to escape. It was one of the few times Cho had faltered. Only on that occasion, it didn't involve Lisbon's life being held in the balance. He felt his chest tighten just thinking about his boss, his friend. He had overheard most of the conversation between Rohen and Jane. The Deputy's words were filled with such malice that Cho refused to believe anything that came from his mouth. So when he took that shot, he knew exactly what he was doing. Cho could have easily killed the man instantly if he wanted to, but he felt like he owed Lisbon the satisfaction of allowing Rohen to suffer just a little. He just never expected to feel so guilty when he did put the sick bastard out of his misery. The image of Van Pelt's startled face etched in his mind put him somewhat at ease. Rationally, he did the right thing. He saved Jane's life, even if he wasn't at all grateful and then he saved Van Pelt's. He did the right thing. Cho studied the man standing in front of him. Jane looked hollow, merely a shadow of his normal self. He had climbed the stairs earlier in a frenzied state, almost tripping over his own two feet. After making it to the top, Cho was overwhelmed by the sweet fetid odour of blood. It was so heavy in the air, Cho could almost taste it and the scent became more pungent as they reached the end of the hall, which was where they were currently standing. Jane's hand was poised in the air, unmoving, as though someone had pressed pause and had merely forgotten. Cho could have sworn, the consultant was muttering something under his breath but he couldn't make out the words. If he were a different person, Cho would have given him some comforting reassurances, would have made a joke to lighten the mood. But he was who he was and so he remained silent at Jane's side, half wanting to know and half dreading what they would find on the other side of the door.

* * *

Jane had scrambled up the steps, catching himself from tripping numerous times. Frantically, he scanned the empty hallway as his feet moved on their own towards the room farthest from him. Even before he reached the door, he was hit by an overwhelming but familiar metallic scent, assaulting his nostrils. Surprisingly it didn't affect him, his brain concentrating instead on piecing together what he knew. What he didn't count on was Cho's voice ringing in his ears, clashing in opposition with Rohen's.

_"I just only wished Agent Lisbon was here to see this…" _

_"Lisbon is still out there…"_

_"I would ask you to say hello to Agent Lisbon for me but we both know you won't be seeing her…"_

_"She's alive, I know she's alive and we're going to find her…"_

Jane screwed his eyes shut as he forced his mind to focus before realizing that he was already standing in front of the last door. He reached out a hand, his arm inadvertently stopping in mid-air. His body was chilled with the nauseating sensation of déjà-vu. This time, he was at least able to prepare himself for what lay just beyond the door. Something he couldn't even begin to fathom all those years ago. He had been standing in the exact same position before, feeling the same palpable dread sinking into his entire being. But knowing what he knew now was far from comforting. He wasn't sure he could survive that again. He wasn't sure he would be able to save himself if he found Lisbon the same way he found his family.

"She's alive," he whispered his lifeline mantra. "Lisbon's alive."

He was so deep in thought that he had forgotten Cho was still standing right behind him. Steeling himself with a shaky breath, Jane slowly turned the knob. The room was rather dark and it took a few moments for his eyes to discern anything. When his eyes adjusted to the soft light, he could make out just one tiny window, hidden behind dusty slated blinds. But it was what was beside the window that caused his heart to almost stop beating. It felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked from lungs and the room receded into the background. Painted on the wall, a crimson face stared smugly at him, its lips curved upwards in a repulsive smirk.

* * *

**_TBC  
_**


	11. Lisbon Wished She Wasn’t Alone

**A/N: Oh wow, I actually updated within two weeks this time! ****My muse decided to come back from Tahiti and then took off again to God knows where. ****So I'm proud that I even managed to get this done. My cracked out brain is only semi-functioning, but I will try to stay somewhat coherent in this author's note XD I can't believe this fic is *almost* over. *sad face* The ending is well, not written but, I'm going to put out a guesstimate of about two (three tops) chapters left and maybe an epilogue. Big maybe, we'll see. If you have any suggestions on the ending, I will read. Listen *to* the suggestions, maybe, maybe not, but read I will :P Thank you to everyone who has been following my confusing plot lines and cliff hangers, I know I haven't always updated in a timely manner. But seeing that you've stayed with me, I am really grateful. Everything (or at least I hope everything) will be explained eventually, I promise. So if this chapter seems a little frantic, I apologize and I apologize for any mistakes. Much love to all the lurkers, reviewers and regulars, this chapter is for all of you. Enjoy.**

**Spoilers: Not really anything specific for this chapter.**

**Warnings: Swearing, mild, but still I thought I'd give you a heads up.**

**Disclaimer: I will eventually own the Mentalist... Season 1 DVD that is. That's as close as I'm ever getting.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 11 – Lisbon Wished She Wasn't Alone**

"Christ."

The word had accidentally tumbled out of Rigsby's mouth and the moment it did, he shot an apologetic look at Van Pelt. She didn't even notice. Her attention was fully captured by the violent scene in front of her eyes. The room was inundated by a deep vermillion hue. Blood, splattered across the green walls, splattered across the once pale wooden flooring. Stark, amidst the red, there were two bodies, one lying back, the other prone. Thankfully, neither belonged to Lisbon. Van Pelt swallowed hard, fighting back the bile rising in the back of her throat as Rigsby tightened his arm around her waist.

"I, I, uh…" her bright eyes flickered up at Rigsby, "excuse me."

She fled from the room. Rigsby could only watch, his hands finding the doorframe for support. Finally turning around, Cho tilted his chin in the direction Van Pelt had headed.

"She'll be fine," he said, reassuringly. "What happened to you?"

"The shower and I had a minor disagreement," Rigsby replied in a deadpan worthy of Cho.

A small grin ghosted across the Asian man's lips as he held out a hand for his colleague.

"You need to get to a hospital."

"I went through this with Van Pelt already. We find Lisbon first."

Cho merely nodded his head as the pair cast a glance over at Jane. The consultant had his palms pressed on either side of the ugly red smile, standing so close that his nose barely grazed the wall. Almost immediately, Rigsby looked away, feeling slightly ashamed for watching. His gaze ended up landing on one of the victims. Dressed in a simple blue blouse and a cream coloured skirt, the woman's hands were folded across her chest, her face serene and calm as though she was merely asleep.

"Rosalind?"

"Yeah," Cho replied, "she was the lucky one."

The taller man followed Cho's line of sight to the other woman, lying just a few feet away. Same red hair as Rosalind but that was where the similarities ended. Lying face down, she had angry lacerations marring her entire body. The ones clearly visible on her neck, the rest hidden amongst the shreds of her ensanguined clothes. From the trail of bloody handprints, it seemed as though she had been clawing towards the opposite wall, the only one panelled in unfinished cedar. Rigsby closed his eyes and sighed.

"Hard to believe that this much blood came from one person."

"That's what I thought," Cho agreed, but frowned. "Something's not right with this picture."

Cho moved from Rigsby's side and knelt down by Rosalind, his eyes focusing on the gaping wound in her chest.

"Rohen shoots one lover and butchers the other?" he questioned, out loud to no one in particular.

"He didn't kill Rosalind."

Both agents looked up at the sound of Jane's voice.

"Lindy shot her cousin," he continued explaining, "and Rohen punished her for it."

He was casually pacing the room, his hands animated as he spoke. It appeared Jane had snapped out of the trance that had taken a hold on him just a few short moments ago.

"Why would Lindy shoot Rosalind?" asked Rigsby.

"Jealousy," Cho answered, beating Jane to the punch.

"Lindy didn't like sharing," the consultant added, "plus, she's obsessive compulsive."

Rigsby watched in silence as Jane ambled towards the mosaic of photographs. He was scanning through them when Van Pelt rejoined the group.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's okay," Rigsby said as she tucked herself beneath his arm. "Better?"

"Yes," she said firmly, though she still looked somewhat pale. "What's Jane doing?"

He just raised his brows in response in lieu of his shoulders as Cho shadowed Jane. Both were now staring intently at the contents within the frames. Cho had quickly examined the photographs. Every single image was of Rosalind, but he could feel something tickling at the edge of his thoughts.

"They're fake," Jane announced.

Squinting his eyes, Cho took a closer look at the snapshot of Rosalind in front of the Eiffel Tower. A faint white outline was visible around Rosalind's head. _Bingo._

"Who said psycho murderers can't be good at Photoshop," Cho quipped.

He was about to turn away but was stopped at the sight of the picture in the middle. It was older than the rest, the corners obviously had been creased before being framed, developed by hand. The background was barely visible but he could see a piano and a book case along the wall behind the smiling faces, painted in a mossy green. From the expression on Jane's face, Cho realized the blond man saw what he was seeing. Jane tore the frame from the wall and Cho could almost see the scattered thoughts being processed from behind the blue irises.

"The room," Jane murmured, almost frantically. "It's this room. This photo was taken in this room!"

He shoved the photograph into Cho's hands as he darted towards the paneled wall.

"I should have seen this, why didn't I…"

Jane immediately trailed off as his fingers began nimbly prodding the wooden grooves. Taking his lead, Rigsby and Van Pelt joined him, Cho just a second behind.

"What are we looking for?" Rigsby asked, sounding suddenly alert.

"Uh a switch or lever of some sort," answered Cho.

"You don't think this blood is…" Van Pelt couldn't bring herself to finish her sentence.

No one was exactly sure who precisely triggered the mechanism, not that any of them cared, but a board sprung straight out, without warning. All four of them exchanged looks. Being the closest, Van Pelt gingerly slid the loose panel to the side and five more boards collapsed away, revealing a dark crawl space. She stared at the entrance blankly until she noticed something glittery by her foot. Bending down, she lifted the object into view. A delicate chain with a simple cross pendant hanging from the middle, coated in a scarlet sheen.

* * *

Her scream was purely instinctive. She had felt someone else's pain as if it were her own. And that pain instantly brought back images of the horrific accident, the moment her mother had died while she was snuggled in her arms. She didn't think she could feel that way again, much less for a complete stranger, a stranger who had just earlier killed her own cousin.

Lindy Harker was almost unrecognizable. Her paisley top, low rise jeans, drenched entirely in blood. She had managed to crawl across the room towards Lisbon, who was still sitting awkwardly on the floor. Lindy reached out a bloody hand towards the older woman and Lisbon unexpectedly held onto her, fingers sticky at the touch. The senior agent had seen people die before. She had been the one to have taken lives away. But the way Lindy had stared at her would forever be burned into her memory as she watched the life drain from the girl's liquid blue eyes. Tears unabashedly stained Lisbon's cheeks, clutching the lifeless hand in her tight grasp. She had almost forgotten all about Rohen, his presence only made aware to Lisbon when he cast an imposing shadow over her.

"It's too bad, I did like her."

Lisbon glared up at him, eyeing the bloodied instrument used in Lindy's slaughter still in his hand.

"Don't look at me like that, Agent Lisbon," he said smoothly. "She wouldn't have done well in prison."

"Well, aren't you a saint," her voice was venomous.

"I try," he shrugged.

Her mind was running all sorts of scenarios, none of them ended with her walking out of the room alive. That was until she spotted Lindy's gun from the corner of her eye, just out of her reach.

"I guess now you're going send me on my merry way?"

_That's it, Lisbon, keep him talking._ She shifted closer towards the weapon.

"Nice try, but I think your shtick could use some work."

"Really? I think I'm pretty damn funny."

"Don't be quitting your day job."

"Trust me, I'm not."

She took only a fraction of a second to grab a hold of the revolver. Swivel, aim, fire. There wasn't even a click. She tried pulling the trigger again, yielding the same result. Rohen was laughing now.

"One is such a lonely number," he sniggered.

Lisbon glowered at him. _Plan B._

"I guess lucky for me, I don't need bullets."

With all of her strength, she chucked the weapon straight at him, expertly hitting him squarely in the face. Rohen's attention was temporarily sidetracked, giving her enough time to scramble to her feet. She barely made it to the door when her legs gave out. Cursing herself, she struggled to push herself up when she was grabbed from behind.

"Oh Agent Lisbon, I'm terribly disappointed with you. You really think you could get away that easily?"

Rohen had a fistful of her hair in his grasp and pulled her towards him. His face was in hers and she took the opportunity to spit into his eye.

"Empty threats from you, don't scare me. Red John, scares me shitless. You, you're just one of his disposable lackeys."

"I don't work for anyone."

His pupils were dilated as his free hand quivered, waving the knife just above her line of sight.

"You don't want to kill me."

"Shut up."

Drawing her brows together, Lisbon straightened up as much as she could. Maybe it was the adrenalin, but something about the change in his voice triggered a memory. Hesitation, denial, mood swings.

"No, you don't," she insisted, in a gentler tone.

"I said, shut up!"

"You don't want to kill me."

She twisted in his grasp but he held firm.

"You might want to rethink that crock pot theory. If you don't remember, I just sliced and diced Lindy."

_Careful, Lisbon._ Lisbon frowned. The voice was Jane's. She was staring down a crazed, maniacal man with a large knife and her conscience had decided to don the persona of her annoying consultant. Her eyes travelled towards her leg. She was bleeding again, profusely.

"What's wrong, Agent Lisbon? No witty remark?"

Rohen sounded distant as her vision started fading fast. She took one last shot at escape. Whatever she did, Rohen doubled over. She ran, in which direction she couldn't even tell. Her hands connected with something hard. Then, the sound of a belt buckle. Scattered memories of the car crash flew to the forefront of her thoughts. A snap. Her cross in her hands, hands caked in blood. Lisbon fell but dragged herself across the floor, darkness quickly closing in. Before succumbing to unconsciousness, she had one fleeting thought. She wished Jane was holding her.

* * *

Jane stared speechlessly at the necklace held by Van Pelt. It belonged to Lisbon. It was no doubt Lisbon's. _His_ Lisbon. He didn't think. He normally didn't. He tore the chain from Van Pelt's hand and ducked into the crawl space. Light filtered in from the other side of the dark passageway. Although it was a very short distance, it felt like it was an eternity before reaching the end. He saw her before he even got back onto his feet. Petite frame, mass of dark curls, blood. Swallowing hard, he rushed to her side. He didn't get close enough. It hurt. It would hurt for a few days. He didn't care. In fact, he never felt so grateful to feel someone punch him in the face. When he had recovered, his eyes met a startled green gaze. No words were spoken. None were needed. She looked utterly tired, her skin sickly pallid, her hair wild and in all directions. She favoured her right side as she staggered towards him. Hesitantly, she reached out towards him as though he might vanish at any given moment. She touched his cheek as unbidden tears formed in her eyes as they simply stared at each other.

_She had been late for work. Out of all the days, it had to be today. She hated herself. Her alarm had been set for PM instead of AM, she missed enjoying her morning coffee at the local café and there was a three car pile up on her way to work. It had not been a pleasant start to her day. Plus, Minelli had informed her that today she was going to meet the newest member on their unit, her unit. She didn't like it all. Another person to worry about. Another person to train and break in. She hated breaking people in. She was so preoccupied in her thoughts that she nearly ran over the man who was standing outside of her office. A pair of hands had grabbed a hold of her arms. Flustered, she looked up. Golden curls, cornflower blue eyes, a smile that could light up the entire state of California during a blackout. She simply stared at him and everything that had gone wrong with her morning, no longer seemed to matter. He grinned widely before shoving into her startled hands a paper cup. _

_ "Latte, no foam," he said cheerfully. "You must be Agent Lisbon. I'm Patrick, Patrick Jane."_

Jane grabbed a hold of her arms and pulled her towards him, crushing her in a fierce hug, her hands getting tangled in his golden curls. Desperately she clung onto him, not caring that the rest of her team was watching. Van Pelt wiped her own tears away, finding Rigsby's hand. Even Cho was slightly misty eyed.

"I knew you would find me," Lisbon whispered.

Jane buried his face into her neck, allowing himself to feel again. He didn't want to ever let her go. He wanted to stay in that moment. He wanted time to simply stand still. Only in the movies did that ever happen. In reality, moments ended. Lisbon pulled away from him at the sound of heavy footsteps, followed by shouting. It wasn't long before someone dressed in SWAT gear appeared from secret doorway.

"Agent Lisbon, are you alright?"

Jane turned and noticed her tears were gone. Her face fixed with a look of indignation mixed with annoyance. The moment had ended.

"What the Hell took you guys so long?"

* * *

_**TBC**_


	12. Jane Wished He Was a Different Man

**A/N: Okay, I have a legitimate reason this time for being late. My laptop got infected with multiple viruses, which meant I couldn't touch my beloved compy. Don't worry, we're all okay now. Everything is peachy and I have an update! Yay! *happy dance* I'm in the process of wrapping up the fic. Translation? There are a lot of explanations in this chapter, sorry if it gets a tad tedious. If you're still confused, don't worry, there will be more revealed in the next chapter. If you're still confused by the end of that one, send me a PM and I'll try to clear it up for you. Oh and I've finally decided to write an epilogue, so if my calculations are correct, there will be for sure at least two more updates. One more thing, I promised way back in Chapter 4 that I would give a prize to the person who decoded most of Jane's cryptic text. The winner was Katie and so she has a small cameo in the fic. Thank you, thank you, thank you to all the reviewers. I don't know why you've stayed through this fic but I am so grateful for all of your support. This is my cue to shut up now. Enjoy!  
**

**Spoilers: Nothing for this chapter.  
**

**Warnings: Ditto as with the spoilers.  
**

**Disclaimer: This Christmas, I'm banking on Santa to give me the rights to the Mentalist. I'm not holding my breath, but hey, a girl can always ask.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 12 – Jane Wished He Was a Different Man**

Van Pelt nervously paced back and forth. _Thirty one_. Pausing, her eyes once again darted from the doors at the entrance to the emergency room. _Thirty two_. She was walking past Cho, between her fortieth fifth and fortieth sixth pass, when he reached out a hand, holding her in one place.

"You're going to wear a hole in the linoleum."

"Sorry."

"She's fine."

"So suddenly you're Jane."

Instantly regretting her choice of words and the harshness in which she spoke them, Van Pelt slowly expelled the breath she was holding in.

"Sorry," she repeated.

"Stop apologizing."

"I'm sor…"

Van Pelt groaned, biting her lip. She internally berated herself for being such a mess and taking her frustrations out on Cho who was the embodiment of calm.

"She's fine," Cho reassured. "Sit."

Slowly, Van Pelt sunk into the only other unoccupied chair.

"She's been in there too long."

One hour, twenty eight minutes, not that either one of them was counting.

"She has," he conceded.

"I'm worried about her."

"I know."

Van Pelt sighed as she cradled her head in her hands.

"2450 Blue Acorn Crescent," she mumbled aloud.

Cho eyed the young woman.

"Jane's text," she continued. "Four exclamation mark, L, Blau Eichel."

"Four factorial is twenty four," replied Cho as it finally dawned on him. "The letter _L_ is fifty in Roman numerals."

"Blue Acorn, _Blau Eichel_," added Van Pelt. "German."

"You have to hand it to him. That was pretty clever."

"Sure, I guess."

The conversation didn't go further as a woman in blue-gray scrubs approached them. Van Pelt was on her feet before Cho as Dr. Hewitt answered the unspoken question on both of the agents' minds.

"The surgery went well."

"But?" Cho filled in the rather abrupt pause made by the doctor.

"But, Agent Lisbon developed a rather stubborn infection. It's localized in her leg and we've started her on antibiotics. I'd still like to monitor her overnight just to be on the safe side."

"She's going to be okay though?" asked Van Pelt.

"As long as she gets lots of rest and stays off her feet, I'm fairly optimistic she'll make a full recovery."

"What about our other two patients?"

"They're both fine. Nothing a few Aspirin and a good night's sleep can't fix."

"Can we see Agent Lis-can we see, Teresa?" Van Pelt immediately corrected herself.

"She's heavily sedated, though you're free to go in one at a time, if you wish."

"Thank you, Dr. Hewitt."

The doctor nodded her head before disappearing down the hallway.

"You want to go first?" Cho offered.

"I think Jane should."

A brief silence passed between them. Van Pelt filled it.

"Listen, Cho…"

"Forget about it," he said dismissively.

"I still want to say I'm sorry."

"Like I said before, there's no need."

"It's not about earlier."

"I know."

Van Pelt began playing with her fingers.

"I-I said some pretty horrible things to you."

"We both did."

"But I should have trusted you. About Jane, Lisbon…"

"We made mistakes we shouldn't have. All that we can do now is learn and move past it."

"I don't think we can just move past it. One way or another, everything that's happened today has changed us, whether we like it or not."

Cho stared blankly at Van Pelt. The not-so-rookie agent hit the proverbial nail right on the head.

"I don't know how Lisbon does it," he admitted.

"She's a great boss."

"She is."

"You'll make a pretty amazing boss yourself one day."

The corners of his mouth twitched imperceptibly. Neither said anything else until they spotted Rigsby striding down the corridor. He had changed out of his bloodied work clothes and into a clean white t-shirt and jeans. Walking alongside him was a beautiful young woman, dressed to the nines in a sharp navy pant suit. She had dark brown eyes, equally dark hair pulled back in a high ponytail.

"Hey, how's the shoulder?" Van Pelt asked.

"Good as new."

Van Pelt eyed the woman next to Rigsby, standing far too close to him for her liking.

"Grace Van Pelt," she introduced herself, holding out a hand. "I don't think we've met."

"Katie Sloane."

"Oh, sorry, I thought you two knew each other," Rigsby apologized sheepishly.

He took a step away from Sloane towards Van Pelt, which earned him a smile from the red headed agent.

"It's okay."

"Agent Sloane's team is taking over the case, but she promised to keep us in the loop."

"My guys brought in Julie Whittaker and Aiden Devralos about half an hour ago." Sloane informed the trio.

"Devralos?" Cho questioned.

"Remember that convenience store we checked out, the one where we figured out Hardy was Dumar?" Rigsby posed.

"Let me guess, Devralos is the owner's techno-whiz son."

"Bingo. He was the one that set up the spy-cam at the Plaskett's, the live feeds at Sparrow's Peak and wired the bomb that nearly blew us to bits."

"Using the same parts as he used for cameras in the store," Van Pelt added.

"That's what I couldn't piece together earlier. I knew the detonator looked familiar."

"It's probably also the same components as the ones I found at Rohen's," said Cho.

"Let me get this straight, you were the one that blasted your way out of locked room by building your own bomb?" Sloane exclaimed. "Not sure if I should be horrified or impressed."

"You'd be surprised what you can learn from reading books."

Sloane smirked. Cho grinned.

"Devralos was Rohen and Hardy's go-to tech guy," Sloane continued to explain. "He claims that Hardy threatened to report his little game pirating venture to the feds if he didn't help him out on occasion."

"What about Julie's involvement?" asked Van Pelt.

"She seemed genuinely distraught when we questioned her about the bomb. Her father was diagnosed with Parkinson's a few years back. Rohen stepped in, took care of the family, got her a job as a receptionist. The girl idolized her uncle and she just blindly followed what he told her to do when she passed on the fake location of Rohen's residence. I don't think she had any prior knowledge," Katie paused and pursed her lips. "In any case, an internal investigation of the San Angelo Sheriff's Department is in the works as we speak. I'm surprised that place has been running for as long as it did."

The three teammates looked at one another. They all wanted to ask. _What exactly was Minelli's connection with Rohen?_ On one hand they wanted to know, on the other, they were afraid that they wouldn't like the answer. As if on cue, the man in question came through the main entrance, wearing a rather bright un-Minelli-like Hawaiian shirt and board shorts, flanked by two imposing looking men.

"Lisbon."

It was just her name, but Minelli had uttered it with such authority.

"The surgery went well," Cho spoke up.

He traded glances with Van Pelt and Rigsby. Sloane quizzically watched the exchange, taking a step back to stay out of the line of fire.

"Good."

Minelli's gaze swept across the three agents in front of him.

"What in God's name are you people staring at?" he exclaimed irritably. "Have you not seen beach wear before?"

A brief lull followed his question before Cho dared to respond.

"Why didn't you tell us you knew Deputy Rohen?"

"Rohen?" there was a slight hesitation as Minelli furrowed his brows. "Wait, you people think _I_ was somehow involved with that lunatic?"

"His niece mentioned you by name."

"Julie and my daughter went to summer camp when they were kids. That's how I know her. Rohen, I met through Julie's father. He played golf with us. Once. I barely even talked to the man."

Awkward. The word wasn't sufficient enough to describe the silence that followed. Van Pelt looked extremely guilty as did Rigsby. Cho filled the void, much to the relief of his two coworkers.

"You have to understand how it looked to all of us."

"For what it's worth, Cho never doubt you, sir." Rigsby interjected.

"That's not entirely true."

"Look," Minelli said firmly, "you've all endured a lot during the past forty eight hours. Had I been in your place, I probably would have jumped to the same conclusions."

"That's no excuse," replied Cho grimly.

Minelli ran a weary hand over his face. He felt extremely responsible for this entire mess. He should have reassigned the Red John case a long time ago. Maybe this was the wake-up call he needed.

"Forget about it, all of you, okay? Lisbon and Jane…" the supervising agent trailed off. "Where _is_ Jane?"

* * *

She looked peaceful, completely unaware of the constant hum of the machines around her. Dr. Hewitt had told him that she was going to be okay, so had the nurses, twice, not that he needed the reassurance. He took the chair from the corner of the room and pulled it right against the side of her bed. Reaching up, he scratched at the itchy gauze taped to the side of his head. _Mild concussion_. He never quite understood how a concussion could be labelled as 'mild,' but he hadn't asked. In fact, he had been on his best behaviour, the model patient. At least, more so than his last visit to a hospital.

He attempted to distract himself with the monitor displaying the rhythm of her heart beat. Instead, it brought back the memory of holding Lisbon in his arms and the feeling of that very heart beat against his own chest. He never felt so grateful. Lisbon escaped with her life, twice, in the span of forty eight hours. Nobody was that lucky, not when Red John was concerned, at least. With his eyes closed, Jane forced his mind to relax, a dull ache just starting to form behind his lids. There was so much to say, so much to explain. His last conversation with her floated to the forefront of his thoughts. He had made a promise to himself to keep her from harm, to protect her from afar. But this entire ordeal had only reinforced the fact that he was crossing an already blurred boundary that had been drawn, the line separating himself with the woman sleeping beside him. He reached out his hand, stopping inches above hers. He wanted to be the one that she saw when she woke up. He wanted to be the man that he knew she wanted him to be. Only, it could never happen. He couldn't allow it. She deserved a lot more than he could offer. She deserved to be happy. Closing his fingers into a fist, he leaned back in his seat, trying to be content with knowing she was going to be okay.

* * *

Van Pelt didn't mean to eavesdrop. She really hadn't. Her intention was to make sure that her boss was okay. She hadn't expected Jane. Well, to be perfectly fair, she _had_ expected him to be in the room, what she was not prepared for was the state he was in when she had found him. He looked like Hell and even that assessment was putting it politely. It was warranted, given the situation. But that hollow look in his eyes, reminded her of the one time she had had caught him crying in one of the interrogation rooms. That was the first time she witnessed just how truly broken Patrick Jane really was. And now once again, the mask had fallen and in the place of the normally flamboyant man parading around in a three piece suit was merely the shadow of a man. She had been so deep in thought that when a hand landed on her shoulder, she nearly punched its owner out.

"Whoa, easy there," Rigsby exclaimed, shielding himself. "I'm already injured."

Once she got her pulse back to an acceptable rate, Van Pelt slapped him on his good shoulder.

"You're lucky we're already in a hospital," she muttered.

Rigsby offered her a grin which was reciprocated, until he noticed Jane.

"He looks so guilty," Van Pelt murmured.

"He does."

"There's a part of me that's still really angry with him," she admitted.

Gazing at her, Rigsby quietly nodded his head.

"That's understandable."

"No, it's not. He's the reason we found Lisbon."

"And the reason why we didn't find her sooner. You have a right to be upset with him."

"Are you?"

"What? Upset with Jane? Yeah, of course I am."

Van Pelt stared at him dubiously.

"You're a horrible liar, but thanks for trying."

"Hey, what are friends for?"

Smiling, Van Pelt turned and surprised Rigsby by pulling him into a hug.

"I'm glad you're okay," she said softly.

Neither of them noticed Cho, who had spotted the two from the end of the hallway. He smiled briefly, before turning away to give his friends some privacy.

* * *

_**TBC**_


	13. The Dawn of Redemption

**A/N: Well this is it! I have a tonne of people to thank, so if you want to skip this, just scroll down to the story. **

**First, to all the readers! You guys have been an incredible audience. I really appreciate every review and favourite I got. It's been quite the experience and all of you made it a one heck of ride.**

**Special thanks goes to Tracie, who's not only an awesome moderator, but a great friend – hope you enjoy your little cameo! To Divinia, for your encouragement that has kept me writing and to Kathiann, for inspiring this fic in the first place. Lysh, you're the best beta a girl could ask for, I will be needing your services for my next venture. And of course to everyone on Jello-Forever! These ladies make this fandom just a riot to be a part of. I couldn't ask for a better group of people to hang out with online!**

**I'm damn proud of myself for finishing this fic. It's actually been quite sometime since I've actually completed a multi-parter and I was at first very unsure that I could get it done. The ending isn't quite what I wanted it to be, but I am extremely happy. Cookies for anyone who can guess who Minelli is in a meeting with. **

**There will be an extremely short epilogue posted prior to the Season 2 premier. A small warning if you like this ending, you can skip the epilogue :) So for the last time, enjoy!**

**Spoilers: 1x23 **_**Red John's Footsteps**_** and 2x01 _Redemption_.**

**Warnings: None that I could think of.**

**Disclaimer: The second season premier is tomorrow, if I had anything to say about it, the show wouldn't have been on hiatus in the first place.**

* * *

**Chapter 13 – The Dawn of Redemption**

_A couple of days later..._

"Yes, Nate, I'm going back to work today."

"Are you sure you can't take another day off? I mean it's been less than a week…"

Lisbon sighed. She had the same conversation twice already. First, she was woken up by her brother, Anthony, which was promptly followed by a call from brother number two, Jacob. There was no doubt that when she finished speaking with Nathaniel, Matthew would be checking up on her as well.

"I'm perfectly fine," Lisbon insisted as patiently as she could just as she had done a few short minutes ago. "Besides, Tracie is driving me so you have nothing to be worried about."

Looking over at the blonde woman seated beside her, Lisbon rolled her eyes. Tracie giggled as she leaned over.

"Hi Nate."

"Hi, your Highness," Nate replied in his best fake British accent.

"If you're trying to sound like me, you failed, miserably," laughed Tracie.

"Hey, you pay attention to the road and take care of my sister!"

"I'm fine," Lisbon said again, irritably.

"Tony said you weren't getting enough rest."

"That's because he had been hovering around me the entire time he was here!"

She hadn't been exaggerating, not in the very least. The eldest of the Lisbon brothers was literally glued to her hip for the entire weekend. Had Tracie not shown up and reassured Tony that she was going to make sure his sister was taken care of, he probably would have never left. When he returned back to Chicago last night, Lisbon had been utterly relieved to have her apartment back to herself.

"I would have come over to make sure you were okay too."

"Thank God, you didn't. I don't think I would have been able to handle the both of you. One brother was plenty."

"He's worried about you. We all are."

Although they had slowly drifted apart the last couple of years, her in Sacramento and her brothers on the east coast, she never stopped worried about them and they obviously never stopped worrying about her.

"Tess, you still there?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry."

"You know, there are days where I wish you were a librarian."

"That could be equally dangerous occupation, I could die from a million paper cuts."

"Ha ha, very funny," he replied dryly. "It's a good thing you're not a comedian or else you'd be living in a cardboard box."

"I guess I'll just have to keep my day job then."

"Alright, alright, I get it, no more codling. Just promise me, you'll take it easy?"

"I'll try."

"You know I love you."

Smiling, Lisbon held the phone closer to her cheek. She did miss her brothers, more than anything in the world.

"I know," she replied softly. "I love you too."

Lisbon waited until she heard the click on the other end before she snapped her cell shut. She could feel Tracie's blue eyes on her as they turned into the parking lot of the CBI. Sitting in silence, Tracie killed the engine before placing a comforting hand on her friend's arm.

"You okay?"

The question was simple. Strangely enough, it was the first time anyone had asked her since her ordeal. Rigsby and Van Pelt had dropped by for an awkward visit as did Minelli and Cho had called a few times to fill her in on the ongoing investigation. None of them had dared to talk about anything other than work. There was only one other person who would've been bold enough to get her to talk, the one person she wanted to talk to since she woke up at the hospital. He didn't visit, not even a call and inexplicably, she missed him.

"_You can be so naïve sometimes..."_

"Yeah," Lisbon said coolly, dismissing his voice in her head. "I'm fine."

"Tess..."

"Did I mention how much I love your haircut?" she commented brightly. "I want a fringe just like yours."

"I think it would look smashing on you. We could be twins," Tracie replied, before continuing without a beat of hesitation. "Nice try by the way, but you're subject changing skills need a wee bit of work."

A much younger Teresa Lisbon had met an equally younger Tracie Spencer in college on the first day of classes. The bubbly blonde had been twenty minutes late for their English Literature lecture and had collapsed into the seat beside Lisbon. She then made a comment about how since she was British, she could probably teach this course better than the 'boring twig' at the front of the hall and the two had been friends ever since.

"You should talk to him."

Lisbon made a mental note that she should stay away from overly observant blonds. There was no question as to which 'him' Tracie was referring to.

"If he wants to talk, he'll talk," Lisbon replied with a casual shrug. "It's none of my business what he does or doesn't do."

"He cares about you."

"Well, he has a funny way of showing it."

"Nothing was stopping you from giving him a ring first so you have no reason to be annoyed with him."

Saved from coming up with a response by her phone vibrating, Lisbon answered without even needing to check the caller ID.

"Hi Matt, I'm fine."

* * *

During the call with her youngest brother, Lisbon managed to escape from Tracie's convertible. There was no doubt Tracie would continue their conversation later, but Lisbon was determined to enjoy her first day back at work. As she stepped out of the elevator, she took a deep breath and strolled down the small hallway with barely a limp in her stride. She smiled, already able to hear Rigsby's voice. Entering the bullpen, she could see him standing next to Van Pelt, who was seated on the corner of Cho's desk. The three agents looked were relaxed, simply enjoying each other's company. She made her way towards them, not quite expecting the surprised looks she got when they had finally noticed her. For a while no one said a word, until Lisbon broke the uncomfortable silence.

"I'm only gone for a few days and you're all already slacking off?" she quipped, trying to lighten the obvious tension.

"What are you doing here?" Rigsby demanded quizzically.

"Well, it's nice to see you too."

"I mean, that, uh, that's not, what I-I meant."

Even though he was a foot taller than her, Rigsby couldn't even look Lisbon in the eye as he became suddenly interested at the flooring. Cho and Van Pelt merely exchanged glances.

"So," Lisbon said slowly. "Any new cases?"

"Nothing yet," Cho replied. "Minelli left a little while ago for a meeting with some hot shot agent that came back from a stint in L.A., so I'm guessing it won't be long before we get something."

"Another agent?"

Cho shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay, well, I guess I'll be in my office."

She awkwardly pointed her finger in the air as she walked away. Shaking her head, she tried to collect herself. This wasn't exactly when she had in mind when she woke up this morning. For some reason she thought that it would be like any other Monday morning. But there was no denying the shift in her team's behaviour, one that she hoped was temporary. She wanted nothing more than for everything to go back to the way things were before. Clearly not paying attention to where she was going, Lisbon nearly tripped over her own feet. Catching herself, she glared down at the offending object she had almost collided into. A familiar worn leather couch, _his_ leather couch, stared innocently up at her, sitting unoccupied. She rubbed her temple, feeling the throb of an oncoming headache. Definitely not a good start to her day.

"You okay, boss?" Van Pelt asked worriedly.

There it was. That question again. Only Van Pelt looked somewhat frightened as Lisbon turned to face her.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Her standard answer. She was convinced that if she said it enough times, maybe it'll come true. Making the rest of the way to her office without further incident, Lisbon pulled opened the door. She froze. The door closed behind her. He was sitting in her chair, navy blue vest, neatly pressed dress shirt, grey slacks.

"Hi," he greeted.

"Hi."

He got to his feet, extending an arm towards her.

"You look great."

"I feel great."

The conversation stalled. She willed her brain to say something, anything.

"Where have you been?"

Mentally, she slapped her forehead.

"I tried calling you..."

She held up her hand, suddenly not wanting to hear any of his excuses. There were so many things she wanted to say to him and suddenly, she didn't have the courage to speak.

"_Nothing was stopping you from giving him a ring first so you have no reason to be annoyed with him."_

Tracie wasn't completely right, something was stopping her, fear.

"You know what, it's none of my business."

"I should have called."

Yet another pause. She couldn't remember a time when conversation with him had been this difficult.

"Well, I have a lot of things I should catch up on."

"Right, of course."

He allowed her space to reclaim her seat and she nodded her head in appreciation. Removing the first folder atop the stack on her desk, Lisbon was about to read its contents when she noticed that Jane was still staring at her.

"You can go."

As usual he ignored her request. His intense blue gaze trained on her. Without breaking eye contact, he sat back down in the empty chair across from her desk.

"We need to talk."

"I don't know if you remember, but the last time we _talked_, it didn't end so well."

It was a low blow, but she didn't have the energy to fight with him.

"I remember."

"So why bother?"

"Because I need to explain."

With him so close, she could see the exhaustion on his face.

"You don't have to," she insisted.

It had been more for herself than for him. She was too afraid of what he would tell her. For a long time he didn't say a word. He simply looked straight at her. She wanted nothing more than to fall into their normal banter.

"I was trying to protect you," his voice was barely audible.

She frowned, confused by his admission.

"You saved my life."

"No, I didn't. Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt saved your life. I, I almost got you killed. Just like my family."

Finally, he looked away, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.

"I almost got you killed and for what? Rohen wasn't even Red John."

Cho had relayed information about Rohen while she had been away. Damien Jeffery Rohen, forty two, in and out of various psychiatric facilities most of his young adult life until disappearing off the map for a few years before turning up in San Angelo. On paper he could have been Red John, he barely existed during the period when Red John killed his first ten victims. There was no definitive evidence he wasn't Red John, but Lisbon knew otherwise and apparently Jane did too.

"How do know?" she asked.

"You don't think he's Red John."

Jane looked defeated, just as he did when they found Renfrew in that dingy hotel bathtub or when they had rescued Maya from Tagliaferro's farm.

"We're going to get him. I promise."

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

"We're going to get him," she repeated, this time more forcefully.

She fought the urge to reach across the desk, just to reassure him with a touch. There was no fixing him, she should just accept that fact. She knew it wasn't healthy for her to have to pick up the shattered pieces time and time again.

"What did Rohen say to you?"

"Nothing important."

"I see."

Lisbon expected him to press her further, thankfully he didn't. Instead, Jane reached into his pocket, producing a small jewellery box and carefully setting it down in front of her.

"What is this?"

Eyeing him quizzically, she picked up the white box.

"I'm sorry."

He looked as though he truly meant his apology. She knew it was probably for everything that had happened the past week, though a lot of it wasn't even his fault, but she asked anyway.

"For what?"

Her question remained unanswered as he unexpectedly leaned forward, brushing his lips lightly against her cheek. It was over before it even registered in her mind what had happened. With a parting smile, though only a fraction of his typical megawatt grin, he patted her on the shoulder.

"It's good to have you back."

Quietly, he slipped out of her office. She was stunned for a moment, reaching up to touch where he had just kissed her. When she recovered, she carefully opened the lid of jewellery box, revealing a simple chain attached to a cross pendant. Her free hand automatically fluttered to her bare neck. Jane wasn't as broken as she had thought. Perhaps she was too quick to just give up on him. Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," she called out, slipping the necklace out of sight.

An apologetic looking Van Pelt entered, followed by a delivery man carrying a rather large parcel in his arms.

"Agent Lisbon?" the man asked.

"Yes?"

"Sign here please."

Taking the outstretched clipboard, Lisbon scribbled her name beside the large 'x' at the bottom of the form as the delivery man settled the box down onto her desk. She peered into a torn corner of the package.

"What is it?" Van Pelt asked curiously.

With a light shrug, Lisbon lifted the flap, pulling out a bright ripe orange. A smile tugged at her lips at the sweet aroma enveloping her senses. Only one person came to mind.

"Thank you," Lisbon said appreciatively.

"No problem, ma'am. So, where do you want the others?"

Lisbon furrowed her brow, trading confused glances with Van Pelt who had taken an orange for herself.

"Others?"

The man disappeared before returning with another box along with Cho and Rigsby, both of them carrying similar boxes.

"Exactly how many oranges are there?" questioned Lisbon.

"Uh about a thousand, ma'am," the delivery man replied.

"A thousand?" she echoed in disbelief.

"I didn't know you had a citrus fetish," Cho deadpanned as he darted back outside to grab another box.

"At least we now know what to get her for Christmas," added Rigsby.

Lisbon glared at the two of them but they simply grinned back. By the time they had brought in all the oranges, there was hardly enough room to walk into the small space that was filled with boxes upon boxes. Lisbon couldn't stay mad even if she wanted to. Instead she felt a sense of relief. The tension had been somewhat lifted and she was incredibly grateful. Folding her arms across her chest, she purposely put on her best scowl.

"Jane!"

She heard a loud thump and could barely see a shadow sprawled on the floor. She bit her lip, stifling a laugh. It was good to be back.

* * *

**_Fin for now, Jello forever_**


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_He stares out beyond the horizon at the crystal blue ocean stretching on for miles, taking in the salt spray breeze against his face. Leaning back in his chair, he sips his tea and feels content under the warmth of the Hawaiian sun. He retrieves his CD player and puts on his earphones. _

_He had been reading the newspaper, now lying discarded in the sand. The top story had been the deaths of three people in a rural Californian town. A dirty cop, his whore. The two held a state agent hostage, attacked another, nearly blew up a few more, attempted to shoot an operative. All for what? Of course that wasn't reported. There was no point. Society believes the world is now a better place. _

_Had anyone, truly cared, someone would have dug further. Would have uncovered that the cop's parents and sister were killed in an unfortunate fire, ruled an accident. Would have found that he was the recluse son, left behind. Would have pieced together the troubled man needed someone to blame. It's funny how the human mind works. That is the problem with criminals today. Revenge and rage, they are the wrong reasons. Immortality? Now that is worth killing for. _

_The only real tragedy had been the third victim. An innocent woman had to lose her life, to remain forever a nameless, faceless statistic. Such a pity. _

_His eyes slide shut. The notes filling his ears are not just simply strung together, but carefully orchestrated into a perfect melody. The master musician, known for his rigour, one of the select few who achieved immortality. He sighs contentedly as a large smile spreads across his face before he is lulled to sleep by Bach..._

_

* * *

_

_**To be continued in Season 2…**_


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